


As Is

by PumpkinDoodles



Series: 'As is' Means With All Faults [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Darcy Lewis, Darcy Lewis's Taser, F/M, Pre-HYDRA Reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-06 03:28:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 66,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14633151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinDoodles/pseuds/PumpkinDoodles
Summary: After the whole Dark Elf incident in London, Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis finally give into pressure from SHIELD about getting Jane's genius brain some armed security and Darcy a job with compensation in actual dollars. So, okay, Jane will be polite to those iPod stealers at SHIELD and take their advice. Sort of. Tony Stark's money can buy a lot of lab space and Stark Tower is safer than New Mexico, right? As long as Darcy can survive her embarrassing run-ins with Captain America and his 'I'm Disappointed in You, Ma'am' face. And then there's that one dark-haired, snarky SHIELD agent/STRIKE team leader who says he's interested in being her friend. That's a little weird, isn't it?I own nothing. Nothing!





	1. Captain America's Disappointed Face

SHIELD satellite office in NYC, post-London incident

He was looming over her in this too-chilly SHIELD conference room. Darcy was trying to focus on his words, not his blue eyes or--dear God--let her eyes linger on those biceps. They were right at her eye level. In person, the biceps were amazing. She’d already mentally decided the right one ought to be named Justice and the left bicep ought to be, like, Freedom. Possibly Truth? Focus, Darcy, she reminded herself. He’d been scolding her for at least fifteen minutes. He’d stopped her as the rest of the SHIELD staff had left the briefing and Jane and Thor had snuck off together. Captain America was actually giving her a stern lecture on civilian safety and responsibility. It was a little excruciating, honestly. She shifted her weight from one foot to another, trying not to blush. Why was his t-shirt so tight?

“Miss Lewis, please tell me at least some of this is actually sinking in?” Steve Rogers asked. “You really need to pay attention to safety procedures. This is the second dangerous situation you and Dr. Foster have found yourself in and we don’t want another occurrence. No more taking on elves or liberating pet shops by yourself. We want your team to be safe.”

“Yes, Captain Rogers?” Darcy said, nodding reflexively, trying to sound responsible and failing. The slight squeak in her voice had nothing to do with Captain America having crossed those amazing biceps. He was looking down at her sternly. She was going to pass out in this conference room and then everyone in SHIELD would know that Captain America had made Jane Foster’s assistant faint with his weaponized “I’m Deeply Disappointed in You, Ma’am” face.

“Good, we’re understood, then. Please pass my message along to Dr. Foster and the rest of her staff,” he said, turning to pick up his coat. The moment his gaze left her face, she could breathe again and a thought bubbled up, unbidden.

“But, it’s not like I planned to fight off Dark Elves. And I did save those puppies in New Mexico from death by alien, Cap. I still get updates from the families who adopted three of the kittens and a Beagle. They did re-name the Beagle Spot which is not my favorite name, but what can you do, you know?” she said. Darcy had never had a filter. Not really. “It’s not like I can take Spot back and demand they name him something more creative because I risked my life saving him. His Instagram is pretty cute, though.”

“Miss Lewis,” the Captain began again and paused to sigh deeply. It reminded Darcy a little of her mother, in terms of general tone and volume. She was pretty familiar with that sigh. It usually preceded a lecture of major proportions. Whoops. “As I’ve said, we don’t want you battling more aliens--”

“You’re talking to the woman who tased Thor. I think she can handle a few more aliens,” a wry, deep voice interjected from behind Darcy. “Fury wants you upstairs, Captain Rogers.” Darcy turned her head. There was a dark-haired man standing in the doorway. He was grinning. Almost smirking.

“Thank you,” Rogers said stiffly. “Will you see Miss Lewis to Dr. Foster for me?”

“Of course,” the second man said, stepping out of Captain America’s way.

“Take my advice seriously, Miss Lewis,” Rogers said, giving her a sharp, disapproving look as he departed.

“Okay,” Darcy said.

“See you around, Rogers,” the other man said. The Captain nodded to him and disappeared, striding down the hallway with his jacket over the bicep of Freedom. “So,” the dark haired man said, looking back at Darcy speculatively, “you like gelato, Darcy Lewis?”

“You’re offering me gelato right now?” Darcy asked, momentarily stunned. “I just got a Captain America lecture and now a jack-booted thug from SHIELD is offering me gelato?” The man threw back his head and laughed. She stared at him.

“I like your style, Lewis,” he said, once he’d stopped laughing, and held a hand out to her. “Brock Rumlow, jack-booted thug, possessor of New York’s finest gelato, and your official SHIELD bodyguard for the afternoon.”

“Fine. But you better have pistachio, okay?” Darcy said, shaking his hand. It was surprisingly warm and calloused. He might have held on a second too long, she thought. “Because--”

“It’s your favorite, along with chocolate hazelnut? We keep good notes at SHIELD,” he said and then he actually winked at her. Yeah, that had been a too-long handshake for sure.

“That is so creepy, okay. Way creepy. Like ‘take the bus from Creepyville all the way to Stalker Town’ levels of creepy. What other terrifyingly personal details do you know about me?” she asked.

“Come have gelato with me and I’ll tell you, Darcy Lewis,” he said, putting his hand in the airspace near the small of her back--almost close enough to touch--and leading her out of the room.

 

****

“So, where’d you get this gelato?” she asked him. “Or do you just keep gelato at your desk for random SHIELD guests-slash-debriefing detainees?” They were sitting in a little courtyard in the SHIELD office tower. Honestly, it was a few benches and a strip of grass, but in NYC that qualified as luxury green space.

“I keep it in my desk next to your old iPod, Lewis,” Rumlow said snarkily and then laughed as she swatted him with her arm.

“Hey! I never got that back. Too soon, Agent Gelato Jack-boot, too soon,” Darcy said.

“Speaking of that,” he said, reaching into a pocket, “here is your replacement iPod. Coulson processed your request before...everything happened.” He put the iPod in her lap gently.

“Shit,” Darcy said. “He actually got my angry emails? I’m gonna miss Agent iPod Thief. Aside from the stealing of precious things and Jane’s Science!, he was a good dude.”

“Yeah,” Rumlow said. They sat in silence for a moment. Darcy stirred her melting gelato. The pistachio was really good. “He talked about you,” Rumlow said, out of the blue.

“Really?” Darcy asked. “About my angry emails?”

“You made an impression,” Rumlow said. His smile was softer, less mocking. “That’s why I read your file. It’s why I’m here. I’m usually in DC, but I wanted to meet the woman who tased Thor, got Coulson to return her stuff, and survived two alien attacks.”

“Look, I don’t know what your intentions are, dude--,” Darcy began, but he cut her off with a quick gesture and a snort.

“I don’t want to get into your pants, Lewis. I want to be your friend,” he said. “But that was a great Steve Rogers impression.” He made air-quotes with his fingers and mock-whispered the phrase ‘your intentions’ with another barking laugh.

“You want to be my friend?” Darcy said, feeling incredulous.

“What, not used to men who aren’t distracted by your boobs? I’m not Steve Rogers, Lewis. I can actually see you. I think you have real talent. I’d like to help you not be murdered by space aliens, instead of just lecturing at you. Telling you not to get into trouble doesn’t really do anything if you’re there when Foster is building goddamn portals.”

“You see me? Pardon me, are we in a rom-com, Agent Gelato?” she asked. “Because this sounds like you trying to, uh, woo me and whatnot.”

“Woo you?” he said, arching an eyebrow.

“Clearly, secretly in love with me from my file. Like that movie _Laura_ , only I’m not fake-dead.”

“What are you talking about, Lewis?” he asked.

“It’s an old black & white movie where a detective falls for a murder victim who is a total babe--a brunette, natch--when he sees her portrait, only it turns out she’s still alive and the murder victim was somebody else. He, like, falls asleep in her apartment and, bam, she’s alive--”

“Jesus,” Rumlow said, shaking his head. “I’m not in love with you, Lewis.”

“What, you don’t watch TCM? It’s the best, Agent Gelato,” she said. “I’m gonna make you watch _The Thin Man_ for being so creepily invested in my many, many talents for no good reason, then.”

“Deal, but you have to do something for me.” Seeing her face, he added, “it’s not sexual, okay?”

“I’m not agreeing to anything until you tell me where this gelato comes from,” she said.

“My sister and her husband have a shop. I’m from the Bronx, actually,” he said. “My family’s Sicilian, so, gelato.”

“Oh,” she said. “That’s actually….cool?”

“Was that a terrible dairy pun, Lewis?”

“Maybe,” she said. “I’m fond of an occasional pun amongst friends.” He snorted.

“Here, finish my lemon,” he said, handing her his gelato carton. “This is the last of the good gelato for you, sweetheart. I called in a favor to get someone to train you in self-defense once you and Foster settle in here with Stark. Romanoff will probably say ‘gelato is for children’ and put you on a diet of vodka and lifting really big tires.”

“You did what now?” Darcy asked, incredulous and slightly confused. ”Big tires and children and who?”

“I asked the Black Widow to give you self-defense lessons. Keep up, Lewis. I’m trying to keep you and Foster alive for the foreseeable future. Don’t mess this up, it was the one favor I could call in with her.”

“Oh, God, what have you done?” Darcy asked. “Why me?”


	2. Cranberry Orange Muffins & Slight Mentions of Spying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy has muffins. Captain America might have a problem?
> 
> I own nothing. Nothing!

Darcy was trying to drag three lattes, a paper bag of obscenely large cranberry orange muffins, and a luggage cart—liberated from a random hotel—loaded with the last of Jane’s handmade equipment across the lobby of Stark Tower. Unfortunately, her cart was slightly wobbly and the back wheel tended to stick. “Jarvis, J-man, hold the door, please,” she called out.

“Yes, Miss Lewis,” the AI said politely.

“Lewis, why are you bringing duct taped equipment into my building?” a voice said from within the elevator.

“Because I fear Jane’s wrath more than I fear you, Tony,” Darcy said cheerfully. She heard him laugh behind her as she dragged the cart into the elevator with him.

“Is that a refurbished..toaster?” Tony asked, his voice quizzical.

“Touch it and you die,” Darcy said, turning to look back at him with a pointed index finger. Then she realized they weren’t alone in the elevator. “Oh, hi, again.” She wiggled her finger in greeting. Captain America nodded back at her, not speaking. He looked a bit pink, like he’d been outdoors.

“How did you and Capiscle meet, Itty Bitty? Hot double date with Asgard and Astro?” Tony asked.

“SHIELD debrief,” Rogers said flatly.

“Oh, that’s what they’re calling it now?” Tony said, wagging his eyebrows. Darcy snorted, then realized Captain America was actually blushing, not sunburned.

“Captain Rogers gave me a very serious talking to about not getting dead, Tony,” she said. “Apparently, the getting dead paperwork is a real chore.”

“Miss Lewis,” the Captain began, but Tony grinned at him and interrupted.

“He the one who arranged your training sessions with Nat, then?” Captain Rogers looked at him sharply. Darcy was supposed to start training with Natasha Romanoff next week.

“No, sorry, Tony. Someone else pulled strings to get that for me,” Darcy said, as the elevator ascended. She’d been refusing to tell him who for the last several days. It was driving him crazy.

“Okay, not Cap, Thor, Jane, or Banner. Who else? Jarvis, was it you?”

“No, Sir,” the AI said.

“Huh,” Tony said aloud. “Cap, you got any ideas?”

“Fury?” Rogers suggested.

“Nuh-huh, but Cap is warmer than you, Tony,” Darcy said teasingly. The doors opened to Jane’s floor and she rolled her cart out with some helpful assistance from Captain Rogers’ glorious biceps of patriotism.

“Who is it? C’mon, tell me,” Tony asked. He made a pouting face. She took pity on him.

“Brock Rumlow,” she said. “Bye, Tony, Captain.” She gave them a little wave.

“Who?” Tony asked, looking at her and then Steve. “Someone you know? Hello, Cap? Lewis, that’s not a real person’s name, is it?” As the elevator doors closed, Darcy realized Captain America was actually frowning.

***

 

“Janey, I just kept Tony from touching your Particle Thingamabob in the elevator and I brought coffee and muffins. How much do you love me today?” Darcy asked.

“More than life, “ Jane replied, staring at a set of readings. “You’re my favorite person in all the Nine Realms….”

“Who isn’t a hot blonde god of thunder?” Darcy said, handing her the coffee and the muffin. Jane nodded without looking up. If she tossed the muffin, Darcy knew it would end up on the floor. “Stop the Science! bender long enough to chew, please. Last week you almost choked on that scone.”

“It’s not my fault--it was extra chewy! I wasn’t expecting those big pieces of cinnamon,” Jane grumbled, looking away from her display screen long enough to take a bite of the muffin.

“We’ve got Tony Stark’s money now. We’re rolling in big cinnamon chips and actual, real fruit in our baked goods, Jane,” Darcy said. “We’re fancy Science! Ladies.” Satisfied that Jane had a modicum of food in her system, Darcy started retyping some of Jane’s notes. Her phone buzzed with a text notification:

 **Agent Gelato** : Thai on Friday night? I’m visiting my sister, so I’ll be in town for the weekend. I know a good place.

 **World Okayest Assistant** : Aw, you miss me already. This is not conducive to creating the impression of not being secretly in love with me, dude.

 **Agent Gelato** : Shut up, Lewis.

 **Agent Gelato** : Are we having dinner or what?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant** : You like me! You really like me! (Sally Field voice)

 **Agent Gelato** : I’ll meet you in the Tower lobby at 8:30.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant** : Please tell me you don’t have a creeper wall that’s all stealth pictures of me somewhere, though?

 **Agent Gelato** : No wall.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant** : Yay!

 **Agent Gelato** : It’s more like an alcove.

 

“Darcy, what are you laughing at?” Jane asked, looking up at her. “Did I sleep write some notes again?”

“No. Um, remember that friendly-ish SHIELD agent who got me the good gelato? Rumlow? He wants to take me to dinner on Friday,” Darcy said.

“Like a date? Is he cute?” Jane asked, momentarily distracted from Science!-ing.

“Definitely cute. I mean, like, ridiculously attractive and he knows it. But he says he wants to be my friend and keep us from getting squashed by alien bunnies or something? I dunno, Jane. He’s SHIELD, they’re weird and they steal equipment,” Darcy said. “Can we trust him?” Jane made a disgruntled noise.

“You should go, if only to see if he asks too many questions about my work,” Jane said thoughtfully. “Not that you’re not adorable and gorgeous and all men should fall at your feet--”

“Minus Thor, property of Jane,” Darcy said, nodding in agreement.

“Minus Thor--but it’s SHIELD,” Jane said. “I wouldn’t put it past them.” Darcy knew she was still really pissed about New Mexico. They’d even taken her duct tape.

“Okay, good plan, my Queen of Science! and Asgard. All hail, Queen Jane!” Darcy said, bowing slightly from her chair.

“Shhh, Darcy, you have to stop calling me Queen Jane. What if Thor hears you?” Jane said, sounding slightly panicked.

“Please, you’re totally portaling towards matrimony, Janey. He adores you. Now, I’ve gotta figure out what to wear on Friday. What outfit says ‘casual, but also here to find out if you’ve been sent by Nick Fury to steal Jane’s stuff’? I feel like that’s pants.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kind comments.


	3. A Lab Table, Miss Lewis!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The re-appearance of Captain America's "I'm So Disappointed in You" face.
> 
> I own nothing. Nothing!

On the Thursday morning before her spy-date, Darcy was briefly alone, trying to sort some of Jane’s cords under the lab tables without unplugging anything that might explode later, and keeping up a running commentary with Jarvis. “I swear to God, J-Man, I think these cords come alive at night and purposefully entangle themselves. They’re like Christmas lights, you know?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t had that experience, Miss Lewis,” the AI said, ever polite.

“Count your blessings, J-Man, Christmas lights are a total bitch. They always manage to get knotted together and then you can never tell which lights are burned out until you’ve spent an hour detangling them. My mother bought every ‘As Seen on TV’ gadget advertised to keep your lights neat and it never worked. My sister is really good at untangling things, though. She worked at a department store in the jewelry section, so she got really good at unknotting necklaces--” Darcy said.

“Miss Lewis?” a male voice said. Surprised, Darcy jerked up and hit her head on the underside of the lab table. There was an obnoxiously loud thump.

“Shit! Ouch. That hurt,” she said, crawling out and rubbing her scalp. When she sat back on her feet on the floor, she looked up--way, way up, so far up it was practically the gate to Asgard--into the concerned blue eyes of Captain America. Great, she thought. Just peachy. How in the Nine Realms was she going to get up from the floor gracefully with an audience, she wondered.

“Do you require assistance, Miss Lewis?” Jarvis asked.

“No,” Darcy said.

“Yes,” Captain America said simultaneously. “Jarvis have someone send up some ice, please.” He was looking at her so intently. It was a lot.

“I’m fine, really,” Darcy said. “Peachy keen, Captain. Happens all the time. Science! equals minor injuries. I’m lucky Jane doesn’t do any science that involves Bunsen burners. Or acidic liquids and whatnot, you know?”

“You hit your head,” he said seriously. “Why are you all by yourself up here? Where is Dr. Foster?”

“She’s, uh, been briefly detained by Thor, I assume? They were kind of frisky at breakfast, so I decided to give them some alone time. But she’ll probably be in by nine? I mean, I don’t need an actual PhD to supervise me on cord detangling duty, ” Darcy said, glancing at the cords under the desk.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Darcy blinked.

“Is Captain America making fun of me right now? Because I’m pretty sure that’s forbidden. It’s an Article in the Constitution and everything,” she said. “Somewhere after separation of powers.”

“Separation of powers?” he asked, clearly befuddled. 

“Not superpowers-y powers. Between individual states and the federal government. I’m not a scientist. Not a Science! scientist, anyway. I studied political science, which is like history with more graphs and charts and a thin veneer of greater objectivity and emotional distance through data,” she said. “Allegedly. Not that anyone is ever really objective about their field of study. Scientists are really very possessive and all ‘mine, mine,’ you know? Like toddlers.” She was babbling again, dagnabbit.

“Oh. Okay. What?” Rogers said. He extended a hand. “Let me help you up, Miss Lewis. We really need to get you that ice.” Well, damn, Darcy thought. No way to avoid being graceless now. She took his hand, expecting him to do a serum-assisted vertical lift and mentally preparing to get her feet steady under her legs. Except Captain America seemed to have misjudged his own enhanced strength. Instead of lifting her straight up, he pulled her up towards him with enough force that she rocked backwards before he grabbed her quickly to keep her from falling down again. Darcy blinked and suddenly realized her mouth was now a fraction of an inch away from one of the Nipples of Freedom and Steve Rogers had one arm--a very close, very strong arm--wrapped around her waist. If she’d thought the biceps of patriotism were firm, they had nothing on Steve Rogers’ pectoral muscles.

“You’re very warm,” Darcy said, after an awkward pause that could have been three seconds. Or three hours. Hard to tell. It was totally his shirt that was making her voice sound like that. Totally.

“It’s the serum,” he said, from somewhere above her hair. “I run a little warmer than most people.”

“Oh,” she said. He was still holding her tightly. “I think I got, uh, lipstick on your shirt, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said. She couldn’t actually look up at him. “Let me get you into a chair while we wait for ice,” he said. He shifted her gently into her chair and she looked at his shoes while she took a deep breath, trying to will away the dreadful thing that she knew was coming. She couldn’t manage it. Vaguely, she was aware of him thanking someone. Oh. Someone had brought the ice. “Miss Lewis, where does it hurt?” he asked gently.

She looked up at him--those blue eyes were sincerely worried and ridiculously pretty--and burst into laughter. His eyebrows rose. “Are--are you all right?” he asked, looking alarmed. He looked prepared to carry her to an infirmary, honestly. She clapped her hands over her mouth, shaking with laughter.

“It’s--it’s--just the church giggles, sorry,” she said. “No--no biggie.” She wiped tears out of the corners of her eyes.

“What?” he asked seriously. “I can’t understand you.”

She had to force herself to calm down with some deep breaths before she could speak clearly. “Hysterical laughter in inappropriate situations. Like church. Hence ‘church giggles.’ Although my cousin Jimmy once got the church giggles at a wedding. Very awkward. Sorry. Really.”

“Is this where you hit your head?” he asked, kneeling and gently touching a spot on her scalp.

“Yes?” she said. He put the ice pack on her scalp and held it there, watching her carefully. She tried not to blush. “I’m not concussed, I promise, just--I tend to babble. Especially around new people. I get nervous around new people,” she said.

“Oh. You and Tony seem to be getting along,” he said, changing the subject abruptly. He was touching her arm with the hand that wasn’t holding the ice pack, seemingly trying to soothe her. He must really think she was hysterical, Darcy thought. God, this was awful. His hands were stupidly warm, though.

“Yeah, well, Tony’s easy to get along with, really. Not intimidating,” she said. “I’m much more scared of meeting the Black Widow next week.”

“That’s what I’m here about, Miss Lewis,” he said.

“Huh?” she asked. Intelligently.

“Tony does Friday night dinners for the whole team. We watch movies, too. Nat--she asked if you’d like to come? Dr. Foster will be there with Thor, too, so you won’t be the odd man out, if--if you want to, of course?” he asked. “That way, you and Nat will have met before training. Get to know each other.”

“Oh, wow, that’s, um, really nice, Captain Rogers,” she said.

“Steve, please call me Steve, ma’am,” he said, smiling and shifting the ice pack on her head a fraction. He had the nicest smile. It lit up his whole ridiculously pretty face.

“Okay, Steve. But’--she sighed--”I can’t. Not this Friday, anyway. Any other Friday, I totally would,” she said. “I have a date thing.”

“A date thing?” he asked, frowning.

“Well, it’s maybe not a date, but maybe it is? I dunno. Rumlow asked me to dinner. You know him, right? Is he even single? He wants us to be friends, or at least that’s what he says. He thinks I need assistance to survive the next alien-slash-whatever attack,” she said. “What do you think of him?” She looked up. Uh-oh, Scooby. Captain America--Steve, she mentally corrected--had visibly stiffened and was no longer smiling.

“Miss Lewis, I think you should leave the aliens to the professionals,” he said, suddenly all formal and not-very-Steve again. He let go of her arm. “Hold this,” he said, gesturing to the ice pack. When she complied, he stood up and took a step back, looking serious. The ‘America is Disappointed’ face was back in full force.

“It’s not like I go looking for them, Steve,” she said, feeling defensive. “You really don’t think I could use the help?” she asked. “I mean, where Jane goes, I go, so the odds of portals opening up and aliens raining down are higher for me than the average person, right? Brock’s not wrong there.”

“Miss Lewis,” he said, his voice low and frankly, a little pissed off-sounding, “I just saw you fight a lab table and lose.”

She sputtered. He crossed his arms again. The bicep of Freedom looked, well, twitchy. “Steve--” she began.

“A lab table, Miss Lewis!” he said, raising his voice.

“Captain Rogers?” a surprised-sounding Jane said. “Why are you yelling at Darcy? And why is she hurt?”

“Jane, I’m fine, I just--” Darcy said, before Steve cut in.

“She hit her head, Dr. Foster, I was concerned that she was injured,” Steve said stiffly. “I need to go see Tony, if you’ll excuse me, ladies. I’ll see you at dinner tomorrow, Dr. Foster.” He nodded and left the room.

“Darce, what is going on?” Jane asked. “What happened?”

“Activate Protocol 45, Jane,” Darcy said, groaning and putting her head down on her desk. Her hair pooled around her face. “It’s an emergency.”

“I’m not transporting you to another realm so you can avoid death by embarrassment or lifelong shame until I know the details,” the scientist said firmly. “Spill.”

“I was working on the Gordian knot of cords under there and hit my head on the lab table and when he helped me up, I stuck my face practically on Captain America’s nipple and then I made him mad, Jane. 45, please, ” Darcy said, without raising her head. “The nipple of Freedom, Jane!”

“Oh, so that was your lipstick?” Jane said. “Wow.”


	4. I Bet You Say That To All The Guns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On her date with Rumlow, Darcy finds out SHIELD has the receipts. For Pop Tarts. Naturally.
> 
> I own nothing.

“Whoa, Itty Bitty, you brought the big guns out for SHIELD,” Tony said when he spotted Darcy in the elevator on Friday evening. He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Trying to impress this guy?”  
  
“Stop leering at my boobs. That’s an HR-reportable offense,” Darcy said, grinning. She’d picked out a deep v-neck top that matched her favorite red lipstick and a pair of dark leggings. Nothing too fancy, but enough to distract someone who wanted to be distracted. “I’m only using the girls for chaotic good, anyway. Jane and I are trying to figure out if he asked me to dinner because he wants to get her Science! or if he’s interested in me, so it’s a test.”

“Test cleavage?” Tony asked incredulously. 

“Can you think of a better one?” Darcy asked. He laughed and shook his head.

“We’ll miss you at dinner tonight,” Tony said, more sincerely. “I was hoping you’d join us. You and Jane should hang out with us more upstairs. Come watch movies and stuff. If this guy is a bust---see what I did there?--we’ll probably still be hanging out.”

“Okay,” Darcy said. “I’ll pop by when I get back.”

“I mean it, kid. It’s nice to have people like you and Jane around to lighten things up a bit,” Tony said. “We can be a little too serious. Especially the Capiscle.”

Darcy blushed. “Shit, Tony, he’s so mad at me--” The elevator doors opened to Jane’s lab floor and Brock Rumlow was standing in front of her, holding a cardboard box. “Rumlow?”

“Hello, Darcy Lewis,” he said. “Surprised to see me?” He grinned and eyed her up and down. He was dressed casually, in a t-shirt and jeans. Darcy tried not to stare at the muscles of his arms. Agent Gelato was cut. “Mr. Stark,” he said, nodding at Tony without taking his eyes off Darcy.

“You’re early,” she said. “How did you know I’d be here?”  
  
“The AI told me. I don’t just lurk outside elevators all day, sweetheart,” Rumlow said.

“With boxes?” Tony interjected, as Darcy stepped out of the elevator and Tony followed her. Rumlow turned slightly, so that they were facing each other again.

“I brought you flours, Lewis,” he said, smirking and tilting the box forward. There were rows of bags in the box. They were neatly labeled: almond, coconut, quinoa, even cake flour. “There might be some palm sugar in here, too,” Brock said. “Try not to read too much into it.”

“You stole that from---oh my God, SHIELD bugged my Netflix,” Darcy said. Brock laughed.

“I’ll just go see Jane,” Tony said, as Darcy stared at the other man. “Let you two sort this out.”

“Have a nice day, Mr. Stark,” Rumlow said as Tony hustled to Jane’s lab. “You think I bugged your streaming service? Why would you think that?” He shifted the box to one arm and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand.

“It’s one of my favorite movies. I watched it on Tuesday,” Darcy said. “You’re creeping me out again, dude.”

“Lewis, your public Twitter bio is, ‘I figured if I was going to make the world a better place, I would do it with cookies.’ I made a lucky guess. Any reasonably observant guy could have,” Brock said, tilting his head to one side. “Didn’t take SHIELD tech to crack this one.”

“You recognized that line?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I might have Googled a little. Also, you posted pictures of yourself making snickerdoodles with Thor last week and mint brownies this week. Seemed like a safe bet to get you some coconut flour,” Rumlow said. “Not that I’m trying to impress you or anything.”

“Of course not,” Darcy said. “You just want to be my friend, right?”

“Mmm-hmm,” he said, smirking. “Is there somewhere we can put these? I want to take you somewhere before we eat. Your clothes are fine, but you’ll need to pull your hair back.”

 

***

Somewhere ended up being a SHIELD gun range in the NYC building. Rumlow was ahead of her in a long hallway, having led her into the deepest part of the building. “Here we are,” he said, opening a heavy metal door.

“How are we even legally in here right now?” Darcy asked. “The building is empty. Isn’t this breaking and entering? Even before we start playing with the guns?”

“Not when you have special clearance, sweetheart. Besides, you need to broaden your skill set. I’m concerned that you’re over-reliant on your taser,” he drawled.

“Blasphemy,” Darcy said, “Lucille is a good and loyal taser.” She patted her bag. “Don’t listen to him, Lu.”

“You named it?” Brock said, raising an eyebrow.

  
“I name everything,” Darcy said, looking around curiously. There were lockers along the wall. Probably full of alien gun technology, she though. Chitauri grenades or something. Nick Fury would have a heart attack if he knew she was here.

“Even the toaster?” Brock asked, sounding almost flirtatious as he glanced over his shoulder. He was sorting through a locker.

“PJ. His full name is Pop Up Jimmy Bradshaw the third,” she said. “Our last two toasters died tragically in the service of Pop Tarts, but Jane saved their organs for Science!.”

Brock snorted. “How are you still alive, Lewis? It’s kind of amazing, in a horrific car crash sort of way. Or those pets who miraculously survive natural disasters. You’re an avalanche kitten, sweetheart.”

“I’m not going to dignify that insult with a response, Mr. Rumlow,” she said, crossing her arms and trying to sound acerbic.

“Please, you can’t get enough of me,” he said, turning and grinning at her. “I’m the guy who is going to save your life one day. Come here. I have the perfect weapon for you. What are we going to name it?”

“I need to get to know it first,” she said. “Wait, what kind of gun is it?”

“The fun kind,” he said, smirking.  
  
“I bet you say that to all the guns,” she said. However, learning to shoot wasn’t as easy as it looked in the movies. Darcy had to worry about recoil and the warm, steady feeling of Rumlow’s hands bracing her waist while she aimed, which meant her brain was constantly pulled in three directions:

_Don’t fall on your ass, Darcy._

_Don’t think about his hands, Darcy._

_Don’t shoot yourself in the foot, Darcy._  
  
  
“Focus, Lewis, I’m not that attractive,“ Rumlow teased her, when she missed the paper target entirely. He squeezed her hips gently.

“Stop messin’ with my mind, Agent Gelato,” she said. “I know you pulled my ponytail on purpose a minute ago.”

“Only because I like you,” he said, ghosting his lips over her ear.

“Finally ready to admit you’re my Dana Andrews?”

“No. Hungry yet?”

“God, yes. Have I killed enough paper men?”

“Probably, but a few of them are only critically wounded. You mostly paper cut them to death. We need to improve your stats,” he said.

 

***

 

He continued with this theme once they got to the restaurant. “You need more defensive skills,” he said sternly, stealing one of her spring rolls.

“Hey,” she said, swatting at him. “Does getting stabby with spring roll thieves count as a defensive skill? ‘Cause I can murder for carbs, no prob. I’m like Oprah that way. Very territorial about my bread and potatoes. It’s our big thing.”

“Eat your chicken,” he said. “You also need more protein in your diet. Especially after you start training.” He was trying to sound gravelly and disapproving, but there was a naughty glint in his eye. She tried not to grin back and hid behind her wine glass. He refilled it and slyly gave her some of his food. Fried, she noted.

“Protein-smotein. I prefer rose and french fries. You’re very scoldy tonight,” she said. “Is this your Steve Rogers impression? Why should you care if one political science student survives the next alien-apocalypse? Jane can replace me with someone who is actually good at the Science! and so forth. I bet there are a dozen brainy SHIELD agents who can do math and eat their weight in whey protein.”

“Oh, now you know about whey protein?” he asked.

“My knowledge of protein powders and tofu is entirely contingent on avoidance of those things, sir,” she said, grinning at him.

He scratched his chin. “I don’t understand your relationship with food. You live on Pop-Tarts, popcorn, and boxed mac n’ cheese for seventy-five percent of the time and then you do some elaborate thing that takes six hours of pastry work? I don’t get it,” he said. “Most people are either or, picky or not picky.” He gestured with his fork. “Fancy or not fancy.”

“I’m going to pretend it’s not creepy that you know that. In New Mexico and England we didn’t have a real kitchen to speak of. But we do now, so I get to bake,” she said. “I do it for the fun of the thing. One of my hobbies. Also, plenty of people are fancy and not fancy. You’re being reductive.”

“How so?” he asked. “I mean, how is it fun for you?” He leaned forward. Darcy could swear there was genuine eagerness in his expression, like she was a crossword he was trying to fill in.

“How do you know we ate a lot of Pop Tarts?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

“You joke about them on Twitter,” he said. “Mostly frosted ones. Also, unicorns.”

“You are an old man,” she said, skeptical. She mirrored his quizzical head tilt. “Spill, dude.”

“Also, SHIELD looked at your shopping in New Mexico,” he said. “So, I know what you bought.” He sighed. “Pretty much everywhere.” 

“That’s--uh, dude, boundaries!--so wrong. I can’t believe you know when I buy tampons and chocolate,” she said, shaking her head.

“Usually together. Thank the Patriot Act’s special alien-lifeform revisions,” he said, snickering.

“So wrong on so many levels, Agent Gelato.”  

“I shouldn’t have Raisinettes delivered in a week, then?” he asked, grinning.

“Whatever you want. I just want to know why you’d want to. Why are you even interested in keeping me alive?” she asked. “Is there a particular reason?”

“Do I need to have a reason to want to help?” he said, shrugging.

“In general, no. But me in particular? Yes. Why are you sneaking me into places? Why are you concerned? Why are you here, Brock Rumlow?” she asked. “Give me a reason.”

“Or?” he said. “That sounded like an ultimatum.” He leaned back and looked at a spot over her left shoulder. “You won’t see me again?” 

Darcy raised her eyebrows.

“I don’t like feeling this...vulnerable. Can we table this question until our second date?” he asked quietly.

She nodded. “All right. You get a one-date reprieve.”

“And a second date?” he asked, grinning.

“Only if you bring more of that gelato,” she said.

“Amenable to bribery. Duly noted,” he said.

 

At the end of the night, he walked her back to the Tower and kissed her gently on the forehead.  “I’ll be in touch, Lewis. Don’t let the Widow scare you too much. I know where she buries the bodies.”

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the kind feedback and kudos!


	5. Post-Kiss Analysis, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy's internal monologue: Hey, what was that whole forehead kiss thing about? Who am I, Lizzy-freaking-Bennet?
> 
>  
> 
> *I own nothing. Nothing!

Darcy was still processing that oddly placed kiss as she rode up to her and Jane’s apartment suites in the Tower when Jarvis interrupted. “Miss Lewis, Sir requests the 411 on your date? He and Dr. Foster and the others are waiting for you in the common area of the Avengers floor.”

“Is Tony waiting up for me like a dad in a teen rom-com?” Darcy asked.

“I believe he is, Miss Lewis,” Jarvis said.

“Tell him I said that no one under eighty says ‘411’ anymore, please,” Darcy. “I’ll be right there.” She sighed and slumped against the wall.

“Something wrong, Miss Lewis?”

“J-Man, what do you know about the significance of kissing someone on the forehead at the end of a date? Is tenderly romantic or a just-friends deal?” she asked.

“It’s difficult to say, Miss. My informational data on human behavior would suggest it’s a romantic trope more common to movies set during the Regency period than a present-day convention,” Jarvis replied.

“Oh God, Jarvis, is Tony teaching you sarcasm?” Darcy asked. “Because you read my mind.” She could have sworn the AI chuckled in response. 

“I couldn’t possibly say, miss.”

 

***

“Guys, hello?” Darcy called out.

“My Lighting Sister Darcy, you have returned! How was the date with spying?” Thor called out as she entered the common room.

“Hey, Lewis, what’s up with the forehead kissing?” Tony asked teasingly, before she could reply to the greeting. Thor and Jane were cuddling a big armchair, while Tony sat on the sofa with a redheaded woman and a frowning Steve sat by himself in a second chair.

“Did Jarvis tell you about that? J-man, you ratted me out,” Darcy said, looking at the ceiling.

“Nah, the lobby cameras caught the kiss, kid,” Tony said quickly, as Jarvis apologized from above. “So, did the weaponized cleavage get him to admit he’s after Foster’s data or what?” Tony asked. Darcy heard Steve sigh deeply. It was his tell, she realized.

“Tony--” he began to scold, just as Darcy’s eyes widened in surprise as she processed Tony’s sentence. Lobby cameras. There was footage. Actual footage! Of the end of a date! Every girl’s dream. Also, her bestie and a bunch of superheroes had seen it before her. Damn.

“Lighten up, Capiscle, she told me the tatas might do the trick--” Tony said. 

“She’s not wrong,” the redheaded woman--who was stunningly gorgeous and vaguely familiar--said. “They’ve clearly made an impression on someone here.”

“You’re Black Widow,” Darcy said, slightly awed. She had to suppress the weirdest urge to simultaneously step back and lean forward. Definitely weird. It was like looking at a beautifully patterned, but potentially lethal animal. Or being near too many hot-yet-deadly Asgardians. She’d met Hogun, Sif, and Fandral and it had been like this, too. At the time, she’d blamed it on them being so damned tall and covered in magic-y armour. Also, the axes and big knives.

“Yes,” she said. There was a tiny fragment of a smile. “But call me Nat, please.”

“Okay then,” Darcy replied, afraid she was blushing. She realized Jane was watching their exchange curiously, eyebrows raised.

“Natasha, don’t try to steal my Darcy, or I’ll get Thor to hit you with Mew-Mew,” Jane said firmly. “She’s my BFF in Science! and platonic life partner. I need her.” Thor nodded proudly.

“That you do, my Jane,” he boomed. “I will do as you command if any attempts are made on our Lightening Sister.”  
  
“He’d have to catch me first,” the Black Wid--Nat said. She sounded almost smug. “Besides, Darcy and I are going to be great friends.” Steve groaned loudly.

“Nat, I don’t think that is such a good--” he said, in full Captain America lecture mode now. Darcy realized she needed to get herself and her nerves together before this turned into ‘Avengers: Talk about Darcy Like She’s an Adorable Child’ night.

“Okay, thanks Steve,” she said, cutting him off. “Your objection to me training with Nat is officially recorded. You can say ‘I told you so’ when she gives me a black eye. I’ll make you a congratulatory cupcake for every broken rib or something.” Steve stared at her, mouth slightly open. “All right, now that Cap is done, Tony, can we look at that Kiss Cam you’ve got? I want Nat’s opinion of the kiss. What does it mean, Amazing Spy Lady? I want the full work up: analysis of body language, length of physical contact, even pupil analysis if Tony’s cameras are as good as I think they are.  Jane, you need to over-analyze this with me, too. It’s an integral component to our friendship,” Darcy said to Nat as an aside. Jane nodded affirmatively.

“I’ll make the post-kiss popcorn,” Jane said, bouncing up and heading towards the kitchen, Thor at her heels. He loved popcorn.

“Very wise,” Nat said. “Especially if you’re concerned about his intentions.” She folded her legs up on the couch, looking thoughtful.

“Does this mean the men have to go?” Tony asked. Steve, now frowning, rose fractionally, but sat back down when Darcy shook her head.

“No, everyone stay if you want. You’ve seen it already, haven’t you? Thor always gets us blankets and stuff. Post-kiss analysis is totally coed. We’re very modern. Also, we need your booze,” she said.

Tony laughed. “Lewis, are you sure we’re not related?” he asked.

“You wish, Tony. I’m going to put on some pajamas, I’ll be right back,” Darcy said.

  
  


***

 

“I’ll grab some blankets,” Steve said quietly, to no one in particular, as she walked away.

“Very smooth, Capiscle,” Tony said in a low voice where Darcy couldn’t hear. They heard the elevator ding.

“Don’t make fun of him, Tony,” Nat said. “He has no game.” Steve sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Is my Shield Brother Steven still failing in his attempts to ask out Darcy?” Thor boomed from the common area kitchen.

“Wait, what?” Jane popped her head into the room, eyes wide. “You like Darcy?! She thinks you’re still mad that she assaulted the Nipple of Freedom yesterday!” she said, sounding surprised.

“He likes her very much,” Thor’s voice said over the popcorn machine. “They would be well-matched. I do not think he minded the incident with the nipple.”

Steve covered his face with his hands while Tony cackled at him. Nat looked at Jane. “He’s terrible with women,” she said. “Absolutely terrible.”

“Oh, Steve,” Jane said, pityingly. “Is that why you’re so worried about her?” He nodded without looking up.

“Is someone going to explain what the Nipple of Freedom is?” Tony asked. “Anyone?”

“My Lightening Sister inadvertently made physical contact with the Captain’s nipple when he helped her up,” Thor called out. “This is one of her amusing nicknames for his masculine attributes.”

“There’s more than one?” Steve asked, looking up with a decidedly flushed and disoriented expression.

“We name everything, Steve. Don’t worry about it,” Jane said, trying to sound calming.

“Indeed, Steven,” Thor said, “It is an honor. I am sad to have missed the memorial ceremony for the remains of Pop Up Jimmy the Second.”

Natasha arched an eyebrow and Tony grinned. “Is that an Asgardian sexual innuendo, Foster?” he asked.

“He was a most efficient and worthy toaster of Pop Tarts, my friend,” Thor called out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and support! I can't believe how positive the response had been so far, it's so fun.


	6. Post-Kiss Analysis, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Kiss Cam is live.
> 
>    
> I own nothing. Nothing!

When Darcy returned to the common room--in her favorite pajamas, sock monkeys drinking coffee, thankyouverymuchJane---things had gotten weird. Steve looked all bugged out, Jane had her concerned face on, Tony and Nat were smirking, and Thor looked dangerously cheerful. “Okay, which one of you asshats re-watched the Kiss Cam without me?” Darcy demanded. “Because that is a low blow, people. I haven’t seen it yet!”

“We didn’t, Darce,” Jane said, “I swear. Right, Thor?” Thor nodded, stuffing a handful of popcorn in his mouth. “Stop that, it’s still really hot,” Jane scolded him, unsuccessfully trying to grab the popcorn bowl. “Thor. You’ll burn yourself.” He grinned at her and stepped backwards into the kitchen. Jane gave chase.

“You’re all avoiding me because you watched it without me,” Darcy insisted.

“Nope, we did not,” Tony said from the couch. Nat shook her head in agreement. “We waited for you,” Tony said. He held his hands up over the back of the couch like he was surrendering to police. Darcy scoffed.

“Then why won’t Steve look at me? Steve, are they lying? Captain America cannot lie, Steven Rogers,” Darcy said, raising her index finger at him like Mrs. Morrison, her scary third grade teacher.

“Darcy,” Steve said, avoiding her eyes and sighing, “I’m not George Washington.” He swallowed, looking absolutely like George Washington trying to lie. It was an itchy, twitchy sort of look. As if he’d read her mind, he scratched his forearm nervously.

“Yeah, he totally wouldn’t mind if you chopped down his cherry tree,” Tony joked.

“Tony!” Steve barked. He gave Tony a stern look. Tony shut his mouth abruptly.

“What he’d say?” Darcy said, looking at Nat. She’d been momentarily distracted by Steve’s Forearms of Dreaminess and had been on a complicated train of thought about how good Steve would look in a henley with the sleeves pushed up. “Did I miss a dirty joke? I hate when that happens,” she said.

“Come sit, milaya,” Nat said, patting the couch. Darcy plopped down next to her.

Steve huffed. “Can we just watch this damn video already?” he asked. “Thor is going to eat all the popcorn.” Tony was looking at him with undisguised amusement.

“I’ll get that popcorn and, you know, call time on Astro and Asgard’s makeout session,” Tony said, hopping up and heading to the kitchen.

“Thank you,” Nat said. She gave Steve a coy half-smile. “You won’t be able to see or eat over there. Come sit next to Darcy,” she ordered.

“No room,” Steve grumbled. There were peals of laughter from the kitchen. They totally watched it without me, Darcy thought. Asshats. Still, they were making more popcorn. She would forgive them for popcorn.

“Plenty of room,” Nat said sweetly to Steve. “I insist.”  She made it sound like the punishment for disobedience might be death. A slow death. With knives and bamboo shoots.

“Don’t garrote Steve just because he’s mad at me, Nat,” Darcy said. “He doesn’t have to sit next to me. He can sit wherever.”

“I’m not mad at you,” Steve said softly. “I never--” He hesitated, as if he wanted to say something else, but shut his mouth when Tony, Jane, and Thor returned with several bowls--tubs really--of buttered popcorn. Tony was balancing wine glasses by their stems like an experienced waiter and Thor had several beer bottles tucked under each arm.

“Jarvis, queue video feed of Miss Lewis on the Kiss Cam,” Tony commanded, as Nat threw a blanket over Darcy’s legs.

“Yes, sir,” Jarvis said. A view of the sidewalk appeared on the television. Tony planted a tub of popcorn in Nat’s lap and a glass of rose in Darcy’s hand with a grin and she mouthed ‘thanks’ at him. Jane walked another bowl of popcorn over to Steve, smiling at him, before she returned to sit on Thor’s lap.

“All good? Everyone have booze and snacks? Roll film, J-man,” Tony said. The image started to move, with people walking and chatting. “Oooh, there you are Itty Bitty. Looking cozy,” Tony said. “He’s got his arm around you and everything.”

“This is a most splendid system, Tony,” Thor said. “It is as if we ourselves are present on the sidewalk at the conclusion of my Lightening Sister’s date with spying. One can even see his arm muscles--”

“I can’t see anything,” Steve said petulantly, and a moment later, he was sitting next to Darcy, his enormous popcorn bowl half in her lap. He ate a fistful of popcorn like it had insulted his mother.

“I’ve never seen anyone angry chew before,” Darcy whispered to Nat, watching Steve’s foot tap anxiously. He was ridiculously warm, of course. It was like sitting next to a pissed off space heater.  

“Shhh,” Nat said, her eyes intent on the screen. Camera Darcy and Rumlow were walking towards the doors of Stark Tower. He had his arm around her and a second later had pulled her even closer, whispering something in her ear. Darcy watched herself laugh at whatever he said. She looked happy. More than happy. She actually looked glowy. Her cheeks were pink from laughing. She was so distracted by the sight of the two of them that she shrieked when something fell from above her head. Immediately, there were two biceps of Truth and Justice and part of a warm, muscular torso snaked protectively over her.

“Dammit, Clint,” Steve said. “Don’t scare Darcy.”

“What? I smelled popcorn,” the man said. He had dropped from a freaking vent in the ceiling. “What are we watching?”

“The end of Darcy’s date,” Tony said, as if this was a totally normal thing to do and not the beginning of an episode of _The X-Files_ that ended in a gruesome slime death.  

“Cool,” the Clint guy said, dragging Steve’s ex-chair next to the couch. “Beer me.” Tony passed a beer bottle down the row.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked Darcy, looking concerned. His concerned face was truly adorable. The feeling of his arms was pretty great, too. He’d even managed to secure the popcorn.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she began, before it clicked. She leaned around Steve. “Hey, I know you! You were in New Mexico. Agent Buff Arms, that was a total jerk move.”

“Buff Arms?” Clint said. He grinned. “I like it. Tony, I want that on a t-shirt.”

“Rewind to the beginning, Jarvis,” Nat said. “Also, everyone shut up. We’re trying to figure out if he’s pursuing Darcy to get at Jane’s research, Barton.”

“Huh,” Clint said. “Isn’t that Commander Rumlow?”

“Yes,” Steve said, removing his deliciously warm arms from around Darcy. They watched the beginning again in silence. Onscreen, Rumlow gave her a look that could accurately be described as hotter than the sun.

“Damn girl, you in danger,” Clint joked.

“Yup, Itty Bitty, he wants you bad,” Tony commented. “I think my panties just melted.”

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said, filching a piece of popcorn from Steve’s bowl. He shifted it closer to her lap, putting his arm over the back of the couch.

“But is he sincere?” Jane asked, sounding worried. Thor patted her arm.

“He looks it,” Clint said. “He’s a good dude, isn’t he, Steve? Don’t you work with him and Strike Team Alpha a lot?”

“Cap, you’ve been holding out on us,” Tony said. He tilted his head like a curious spaniel. “What’s he like?”

“I work with him some in DC,” Steve said coldly. “I wouldn’t say I know him well.”   
  
“Who pissed in Cap’s cornflakes?” Clint asked, eyebrows raised. Nat looked at him wordlessly. “Okay. Tell me later,” Clint said. “Shit, last week you said he was badass, Steve, and--damn, did he just kiss her forehead? That guy is smooth. He just Mr. Darcy’d you, Darcy.”   
  
Darcy was momentarily focused on Rumlow’s fingers tracing the line of her jaw as his lips pressed against her forehead. When he pulled away, his eyes were full of warmth and he was grinning down at her as her onscreen self blushed reflexively. The heat between them was obvious.

“What did he say?” Natasha asked. “Right after he kissed you?” Darcy could see the wheels turning in her mind.

“Something about touching,” Clint said wryly. Steve made a weird sound. “I lip read,” Clint told Darcy.

Once she was sure Steve hadn’t choked on his popcorn, Darcy said, “He told me he’d be in touch and that I shouldn’t let Nat scare me. That he knew where she buried the bodies.”

“Guy has a sense of humor,” Tony commented. “He brought her flours--the cake kind--when he found out she likes to bake. It was pretty hot.”

“You’ve met him?” Steve asked.

“I happened to be getting off the elevator at the right moment,” Tony said. “Did he say anything about Jane’s research during the date?”

“No, we mostly talked about me learning defensive techniques with Nat and what my interests are. He’d been checking up on my SHIELD file and my social media,” Darcy said.  
  
“Did he do anything else unusual?” Nat asked suddenly.   
  
“He shared his food with me without my asking. Snuck it onto my plate, like it was a...a thing between us,” Darcy said.   
  
Nat hmm’d. “His love language is food?” Tony suggested. “The flours?”   
  
“He knew what I liked. Jane, he knows what we bought in New Mexico,” Darcy said. “He saw our Pop Tart receipts!”

“That’s pretty standard, though. Not nefarious,” Clint said, in response to Thor’s disgruntled sound at Jane’s tensing up.  

 

“Nat, what do you think?” Darcy asked, turning to look at the redhead. She’d watched the kiss intently, several times, without speaking. “Is he faking a relationship with me to get to Jane?”

Nat took a deep breath. “I see no outward physical signs of deceit. He mirrors your body language in ways that typically indicate sexual interest: repeated touching, slowing his steps to match yours, standing more closely than he would to a person in nonsexual situations. When he kisses you, his pupils are dilated and he appears to be breathing at a slightly elevated rate, which suggests genuine arousal,” she said. “You see that muscle in his neck?” She pointed to a spot on the screen. “Watch. Jarvis, please replay that segment.”

“It jumped,” Jane said. “What does that mean?”  
  
“He’s looking at her mouth. When he pulled away from the forehead kiss, he saw Darcy bite her lip and wanted to kiss her again. It’s interesting,” Nat said.

“Interesting how?” Steve said. “How, Nat?” He was using his Captain America voice. His leadership voice.

“He’s not rushing the intimacy,” Nat replied. “If this was a ploy, wouldn’t it be advantageous to be more aggressive? Get into her bed in this building quickly? She’s new in town, possibly lonely, clearly aroused, yet he resisted the impulse--”   
  
“What?” Darcy said, stuttering.

“Milaya, there are signs. When he looks at you, you turn on like a light. I can see the flush on your chest. He did, too. Your pupils are dilated as well. Your lip biting is a clear tell. You do it whenever you look at his mouth. You are repressing the urge to smile when you think about kissing him,” Nat said. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, shit,” Darcy. Tony laughed and then got quiet. Beside her, Steve had gone stock-still at the first mentions of sexual interest and arousal. “Sorry, Steve,” she said, patting his knee. “I keep sexually traumatizing an innocent and pure national icon.”

“Huht?” Clint said, expelling a piece of popcorn.   
  
“I’m a menace to Captain America’s virtue. I basically fell into one of his nipples yesterday,” Darcy said, making a face. “Now he has to hear about my”--she paused to do air quotes--”arousal.”   
  
“Please don’t say that word,” Steve said quietly. There was an awkward moment, filled by the sound of Clint’s chewing. Jane and Thor were looking thoughtfully at the paused screen. Nat had stopped it at the moment after Darcy’d been surprised by Rumlow’s lips on her forehead--she looked delighted and perplexed at once. He was gazing down at her with a soft expression.

“He looks very gentle,” Jane said. Then she clapped her hand over her mouth as if she’d said something she meant not to say out loud. Thor looked uncharacteristically solemn.  


  
“Wait, where’d you go before?” Tony asked suddenly, “You were gone too long for just dinner.” Steve shifted next to Darcy. “He surprised you by being here early, right?”

“Yeah, he took me to, um, a gun range? He wants me to learn how to shoot,” Darcy said. “He thinks I rely on my taser too much. My aim needs work,” she admitted.

“He wants you to learn to shoot a fucking gun?” Steve said loudly, just as Nat asked which shooting range.

“Um, well, he, uh--Steve you have to promise not to snitch, okay?” Darcy asked nervously. “I don’t want him to get in trouble.”

“What?” Steve said. His expression was dark and vaguely lethal.

“Steve, promise me you won’t tell anybody,” Darcy asked, putting her hand on his knee. “I know you hate to lie, but just don’t mention it to anyone.” Some of the tension left his leg when his eyes met hers. “Promise me? Please?”  
  
“Okay,” he said, huffing the word out like it physically hurt. “Okay, Darcy. I won’t. Where did he take you?”   
  
“He snuck me into SHIELD range A-3 and taught me how to use the new silent guns,” Darcy said nervously. Steve went a little pale and reeled back like she had slapped him. Clint whistled.

“That’s new tech, how’d he even get in the building, much less the STRIKE range after hours?” Clint said, clearly directing the question at Nat. She shook her head.

“He said he had special clearance,” Darcy said. Nat narrowed her eyes and looked thoughtfully between Clint, Darcy, and Steve. Thor, Jane, and Tony were watching her carefully.  
  
“How long were you there?” Nat asked.   
  
“Two or three hours,” Darcy said. “I’m not sure. There were no clocks.”   
  
“Did you get actual practice with a Chituari weapon?” she said, her voice calm. “Fury won’t even let Clint and I see those.”   
  
“Yes,” Darcy said. Steve let out a muffled growl and Darcy felt him clench his hand on his leg.   
  
“Steve,” Nat said warningly. “Calm yourself.”   
  
“You want me to calm down?” Steve said in an voice Darcy had never heard him use before. She automatically shifted away from him. “Then explain how the hell---”   
  
“Steve, you’re making Darcy nervous,” Nat said quietly, cutting him off. “Stop. Right now. You gave your word.”

“Okay,” Steve said, taking a deep, shuddering breath. Darcy felt him relax fractionally.  
  
“May I continue?” Nat asked.  
  
“Yes,” Darcy said. “What do you think?” Steve made a disgruntled noise.  
  
“As far as I can tell, he is genuinely attracted to you. If he says that he’d like you to learn to survive a dangerous situation with Jane, then I can think of no better preparation than weapons training and that he wants you to train with me. He is giving you the most sophisticated advantages that he can access, calling in favors. He resisted the urge to climb into bed with you immediately. Nothing is certain, but those are indicators of seriousness of intent.”  
  
Darcy nodded. “Thank you, Nat.”  
  
“Are we just not going to talk about how unethical and dangerous it is for a civilian to be in a SHIELD gun range with new weapons?” Steve said, rubbing his face with his hand.  
  
“What is it?” Nat asked.  
  
“What do you mean, ‘what--” Steve began.  
  
“I was talking to Darcy, not you. What else, milaya?” Nat asked softly.   
  
“It’s--oh God, I can’t say it in front of Captain America,” Darcy said.  
  
“Steve, come with me,” Tony said. “We’ll go into the other room.” The two men left together.  
  


With Steve gone, Jane came to sit next to Darcy, squeezing her hand. “Steve isn’t upset with you, Darce. He cares about you,” she said. Darcy looked at her, surprised, and shook her head.

“Well?” Nat said. Clint and Thor seemed to lean in. Darcy took a breath.   
  
“It’s bad, guys,” she whispered. “It’ll kill Steve if you tell him. I can’t be responsible for giving Captain America a fatal heart attack.”   
  
“You had sex at that range, didn’t you?” Clint said. “Ranges are sexy.” Thor grinned and Jane shot him a severe look.

“No, it’s not that,” Darcy said, “Nat, it’s--it’s the gun. He gave me one of them to keep. I have a silent gun in my purse.”  
  
“Motherfucker,” Clint said. From within the other room there was a loud bang as someone threw the door open. Steve barreled into the common room, trailed by Tony. Steve was wild-eyed and Tony was a little pale.   
  
“A goddamned stolen SHIELD gun in your pocketbook?!” Steve said.   
  
“His hearing is very good,” Nat said calmly, shrugging. “It cannot be helped. Milaya, I will make a deal with you.” Everyone looked at Nat. The whole room seemed to pause.   
  
“A deal?” Darcy said.   
  
“If you let me train with your new present, I will show you how to use my Widow’s Bites and get you ones of your own,” Nat said.   
  
“Deal,” Darcy said, exhaling. Tony’s eyebrows were somewhere around his hairline, but he didn’t speak.

“Natasha, we need to talk,” Steve said, seething.

“Very well. We will go the training room, so that you will not upset Darcy,” Nat said. She stood up and stretched. “It has been a lovely evening. Darcy, I am glad we have met.”  
  
“I’m glad, too,” Darcy said, smiling at her without making eye contact with Steve. There would probably be a mandatory cooling-off period before she got to be up close and personal with the Biceps of Freedom and Justice again, dammit. 

Clint watched them leave and then turned to Darcy and Jane. “Well, that was some shit, Taser girl,” he said. “Hey, you got anymore of those cinnamon cookies?”

“It was you! Vent man is the one who stole your snickerdoodles, Thor!” Darcy said, pointing. Thor looked stricken.  
  
“Hawkeye, my brother, I am very sad to learn of this betrayal,” he said seriously. “Those were for my Jane. I rolled them by hand.”

“Wait, do I get to see the gun? I wanna see the gun,” Tony said, finally using words again.  
  
“Tony, no,” Jane said.   


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> milaya= darling/sweetie in Russian, according to The Google.
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for all the support! Y'all are so nice!


	7. Candy Bouquets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some training, some crying, some Elvis.

Training with Nat was both more and less scary than Darcy anticipated. Nat was a good teacher; serious, but fair and good at explaining her methods and why they were important. She understood that Darcy wanted to know why she needed to do something, as well as how to do it. The problem was Steve. Rather than avoiding her over what she and Jane were calling The Incident of the Gun, as Darcy had imagined he would, he hung around the gym. He lurked. She could handle Steve’s awareness of her when he ran or lifted weights alongside her. She could cope with his stilted attempts at conversation, even if it was difficult to talk back as she huffed through a ten minute mile. That was fine. Friendly, even. He got her extra water and gave her useful, non-patronizing tips on her form and didn’t acknowledge that she ogled him at the weight bench in turn. The Glutes of Justice didn’t hurt, either.

 

It was his whole deal when she did mat work with Nat that was the issue. Steve would watch them from the edge of the gym, frowning. He interjected. He hovered. He bitched. “Nat, why is he here?” Darcy asked. “He’s got his bugged out face on whenever we train.”  
  
  
“You’d have to ask him that, milaya,” Nat said, giving Darcy a half-smile and promptly flipping her on her back. Darcy ooof’d. “Yield,” Nat demanded.

“Too much force, Nat,” Steve said, suddenly at Darcy’s elbow. “You’re being too hard on her. She can’t handle it.”

“Yes, I can,” Darcy said hotly, when she caught her breath. “Do you think people who want to kidnap Jane’s brain machines will pull their punches?”

“No,” Steve said. He crossed his arms.

“Go away, then, you’re messing with my mojo,” Darcy said. “I’m learning here, Steve. I’m gonna fall on my face some in the process, okay?”

“I don’t like it,” Steve said mulishly. He was actually pouting.

“Well, what do you like, Steve?” Darcy said back. That had always worked with the little kids she babysat and Steve was acting exactly like little three year old Brianna Carpenter. First rule of toddler people, even the grown ones: meet all stubbornness with breezy nonchalance, Darcy reminded herself. It had kept her from killing Tony no less than thirteen times. “Do you like anything?” she asked.

Steve looked momentarily nonplussed. He shifted his weight back and forth. “I-I just hate seeing you get hurt,” he said softly.

“I’m not actually getting hurt here, this is just practice hurt,” Darcy said. “So, you’ve got nothing to worry about, okay? This might go faster if you actually helped me, like you do with the weights.” From somewhere behind her, she had the sixth sense that Nat was smiling.

“Shut up, Nat,” Steve hissed.

“I did not say a word,” Nat said.  
  
“I can hear you thinking it,” Steve said, before turning on his heel and marching out.  
  
“Well, thank God that’s over,” Darcy said. “Do you think he needs a nap or a bottle?” Nat smirked wordlessly and caught Darcy in chokehold.  
  
“I think he needs a nap, Taser girl!” Clint called from somewhere in the rafters. “Put him to bed and I’ll teach you to shoot arrows!”  
  
“Be quiet, Clint,” Nat said.

 

Of course, Steve was back in five minutes with more water. He made Darcy drink some in exchange for showing her how to evade Nat’s freakishly strong grip. Then he stood around and frowned some more and made distracting trapped puppy sounds whenever Nat got a hit in. The whole thing--whatever it was--was making Darcy itch.

 

***

 

Then there was a tiny little explosion in one of the labs. It was nobody’s fault, really, as Tony said later, once they’d cleaned the soot off his face. Bound to happen sometime. But the whole ‘things go boom’ disrupted one of Jane’s Science! binges, made Banner hulk out, and gave Darcy a headache. Really, the headache was all from the pressure shift and the subsequent alarm screeching, but it was compounded by Steve--fresh from DC and full-on crabby, for some reason he wouldn’t explain--trying to hover in the labs.

“Steve,” Darcy finally said, “Take a nap, take a shower, take a vacation, whatever. You’re irritating Jane. When you irritate Jane, I get a headache. When I get a headache, I contemplate lacing your favorite chocolate chip cookies with Bolivian frog poison.” Steve looked hurt. He made the trapped puppy sound.  
  
Jane snorted. “I don’t think it would actually kill him,” she said.

“I’ll settle for a period of agony and gastrointestinal pains,” Darcy said seriously. Steve’s reply was interrupted by the arrival of a Stark security guard.  
  
“Darcy Lewis?” the man asked. “A delivery for you.”  
  
“Present,” Darcy said, raising her hand. “Oooh, a candy bouquet! Are those Reese’s Cups taped to sticks? Awesome. 100 Grands, too. Thank you.” The guard departed. “Jane, are these from Thor? He knows those are all my favorites.”  
  
Jane peered over at Darcy. “He didn’t mention anything. What’s the card say?” She glanced over at Steve, who was looking perplexed at the bouquet.  
  
“I didn’t know candy bouquets were a thing,” he said.  
  
“Your lack of Reese’s knowledge makes me sad sometimes, Steve. You need more candy in your life,” Darcy said, opening the card.  
  
“You could teach me,” Steve said softly.  
  
“Shit, Jane, I know these are from Rumlow,” Darcy said. “The card just says ‘Second date, Friday at 8pm.’ Nothing else.” Steve’s head snapped up.

“What, like ‘be there or be square’? That’s weird,” Jane said thoughtfully, before Steve interrupted her.

“Are you going to go?” he asked. When she didn’t reply, he continued. “I don’t think this is safe. He’s already shown that--”  
  
“Steve, Darcy gets to make her own choices,” Jane said, sounding oddly like Natasha.

“Don’t you work with him? Clint says he’s like your second on missions,” Darcy said. “I would think you’d be happy for me to in a relationship with someone who can help me and Jane if shit goes down.”

  
“Yeah, well, I didn’t realize he was the kind of guy who would recklessly endanger you with SHIELD tech,” Steve said bitterly. “He’s putting you at risk. You’ve got no business trying to handle things on your own. You’re a lab assistant, you don’t have the necessary training. You’ll get hurt.”

“Oh, so I’m _just_ a lab assistant?” Darcy said. “Fuck you, _Captain America_. Get out.”

“Fine, do what you want,” Steve said, his shoulders rigid. He stood up and marched out.  
  
  
Darcy could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. _I won’t cry, I won’t cry, I won’t cry_ , she thought. She heard a chair roll behind her.  
  
“That fucker,” a voice said in her ear. Jane’s gentle hug sent her over the edge and she burst into tears. “It’s okay, Darce, I’m sorry,” Jane said. “You’re brilliant and talented and Steve is just being a jealous pissbaby.” Jane held her as she wept.  
  
“Will you get Thor to hit him for me?” Darcy asked finally, wiping her eyes.

“Hell, yes,” Jane said, narrowing her eyes, “he’s going to pay for making you cry, you hear me? He’s going to have Thor and Nat and Tony and me on his ass. We’ll see who gets hurt.”

“I love you, Janey,” Darcy said.  
  


***

“What the fuck, Steve?” a tiny, but very pissed off astrophysicist demanded in the common area, several hours later. Jane had been pretty team Cap--because SHIELD were sneaky duct-tape thieves--but she was over it now. “Explain what that was? Because you made her cry. Made. Her. Cry.” She punctuated each word with a stab of her finger into his chest.  
  
“Oh, no,” Steve said. He looked stricken and vaguely nauseous.  
  
“I’d say it was Steve setting any hope of a relationship with her on fire and pouring gasoline on it,” Tony cracked. “Seriously, Capiscle, you messed up.”  
  
“When Tony thinks that--” Jane began.

“I want someone to tell me exactly what happened?” Nat asked, entering the room with a glum-looking Clint. “Thor is too angry to talk to you right now. He’s gone off to smash things with Mjolnir until he feels safe to look at you.”

  


***

 

  
She was surprised at how quickly he answered the phone. It was late, after all. “I just wanted to thank you, it was the highlight of a really shitty day. We had a minor lab explosion and, uh, some other stuff,” Darcy said, shifting on her couch.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked.  
  
“Not ready yet,” she said. “Someone got me in my soft underbelly, is all. Where are you? Your cell reception sounds awful,” she asked.  
  
“Sweetheart, I am in bumfuck-fucking-Egypt. I wish I was kidding. This place is literally named Cairo. There’s one stoplight. I was staring at the water stains in the ceiling just now,” Brock said. “I’m stuck here for almost a week, dealing with some dangerous chemical bullshit for the man. Threw a wrench into my initial plans for the second date. I wanted it to be sooner.”

“Can’t stop thinking about me?” Darcy teased, trying to sound bright.  
  
“It would help if the one radio station for a hundred miles would stop playing your song. Listen,” he said and she heard the strains of “You’re the Devil in Disguise” through a haze of static.  
  
“Hey, that’s a good song,” Darcy said. “I love that song.”  
  
“Sure, Darcy Lewis. it’s all Elvis tonight. You would love it,” he said. “I saw your damn iPod.”

“He is The King and the most handsome and desirable man in history and that will never change, even if you buy me all my favorite candy, just to be clear,” Darcy said.

“Even in the jumpsuit?” His voice was arch.  
  
“Especially the 1970 jumpsuit. I have strong feelings about the chest hair,” she said. “It’s hot. I imprinted on it from a young age.”  
  
  
“How exactly did that go now?” Brock said wryly. “It’s not in the file.”  
  
“I can’t believe SHIELD failed to discover that my Grandma was a huge Elvis fan. I’ve been to Graceland, Brock!” she said, laughing. “That’s a major oversight.”

He laughed. “I take full responsibility. Should I grow out my sideburns for you, sweetheart?” Brock asked.  
  
“Maybe. It’s the anniversary of his death this week, you know. Hence, the radio station marathons. Lots of stations play Elvis on his birthday or during death week,” she said.

“This is the weirdest post-first date conversation I’ve ever had,” Brock said.  
  
“Weird is my thing, honestly. You know you love it. Speaking of, did you bring your murder-photo-collage of me with you, Agent Gelato?”

“Nah,” he said, “it doesn’t travel well. I have to be content with all the stalker ones I have on my phone.”

 

They lapsed into a comfortable, static-y silence. Darcy could hear the faint sound of “Suspicious Minds” through the phone, along with Brock’s steady, quiet breathing. “Should I let you go?” she asked. “You’re probably tired.”  
  
“You could,” he said. “Or you could tell me what got you so upset that you called me?”  
  
“It’s nothing,” Darcy said. “Work stuff.” She was not going to cry on the telephone.

“Sure, sure. Nothing. I have a theory, Darcy Lewis, about you and ‘work stuff’ and why you’re avoiding the subject,” he said, his voice turning suddenly intense.

“Says the guy who can’t even admit why he’s interested or even that he’s interested,” she said, matching his tone.

“I wouldn’t be on this phone if I wasn’t,” he said. His reply was softer. “I’m interested, damn it. I’ve been nothing but interested in you since I read your file. We’re a lot alike. Neither of us likes being vulnerable. So, we have two choices: we can keep this thing between us light and make jokes and hide from each other just like we do with everyone else, or we can take a risk and talk about what makes us afraid.” There was a pause. He sighed. “Shit, I’m sorry, that was too much.”  
  
“What are you scared of?” she asked him. There was a fraction of silence and the sound of Elvis covering Peggy Lee’s “Fever” before he spoke.  
  
“That if you knew what I really was, the things I’ve done in this job, you’d run screaming in the other direction,” he said finally. “That I’m not a nice man.” He paused. “Would you like to hear my theory?”

“Tell me your theory,” she said.

“There’s this funny thing in your SHIELD file,” he said. “It’s not a report, it’s the absence of a report.”  
  
“What is the absence of a report, Mr. Rumlow?” she asked him softly.

“Something I can feel. Something that ought to be there and isn’t. Nobody else caught it, not even Coulson. Nobody paid attention. Everyone’s running around, talking about Jane Foster’s portals and missing it. Missing you, Darcy Lewis,” he said in a low voice. “Your GPA in your major never dropped below 3.92. You were an excellent political science student. You had a 4.0 in your Islamic Studies minor. You were on track to go to graduate school. You got funding to study Farsi. But somehow you ended up in New Mexico with Foster and no one can tell me why.”

  
She took a deep breath and then exhaled. “Everything at once,” Darcy said. “Murphy’s Law and all that. I lost the thread.”  
  
“PTSD from New Mexico?” he asked. His voice was gentle.  
  
“A little, yeah, but my life started going sideways pre-aliens. The year before I met Jane, I flunked Farsi. Everyone told me I’d love it, but I couldn’t do it. I knew language credits mattered for all my grad school applications. Then I did badly on the math part of the GRE. My advisor said I ‘looked like a brilliant reader who couldn’t add.’ Flunking my language classes and, oh, half the GRE weakened my chances of getting solid funding for grad school in poli sci. Some professors told me they wouldn’t advise me to go without funding because of the debt burden. Programs give funding to people who can ace stats and have near-native language skills, you know? I got really depressed. My schedule was all screwed up, too. That’s how I ended up with Jane’s internship. Meeting Jane probably saved my life, ironically,” she said. “At least twice.”  
  
“Everything riding on everything else,” he said, sympathetically. “You ever tried to go back to school? Find the thread again?”  
  
“I had panic attacks just thinking about it. I scraped into Culver’s grad program with my first GRE scores--just barely--after New Mexico, but I only lasted one semester. I bet SHIELD thought I was just finishing some undergrad credits. It was all remedial Farsi and people talking about data sets and hegemony and Foucault and I just felt, so lost, like there was a glass wall between me and everyone else….” she trailed off. “After I quit, Jane asked me to come to London. With her, I felt better. More like myself. I realized that I had probably been depressed again, only everyone complains so much about grad school, it’s hard to tell.” Her voice trembled.  
  
“You decided you could make the world better with chocolate chip cookies,” he said tenderly.  
  
“Something like that,” she said. “That’s why it’s one of my favorite movies. I wanted to go work for the State Department. Now I meet people from Culver and they get this look when they find out I’m still Jane’s assistant. I can see them thinking ‘failed at life’ practically out loud.”  
  
“That happened today?” he asked, a flicker of anger in his voice..  
  
“No, it was one of those ‘just Jane’s assistant’ moments. Jane never takes me for granted, but plenty of other people do. They assume I’m stupid. Just the dumb girl with the boobs. It’s not a life problem on the level of systemic poverty or something--I try to be realistic about my privileges and not complain--but today someone got to me,” she said.  
  
“I didn’t mean to make you cry, sweetheart,” he said.  
  
“You didn’t, someone else did. What Elvis song are they playing now?” she asked.  
  
“Always on My Mind,” he said quietly.  
  
“It’s a good song,” she said. “His divorce song.”  
  
“Do you think he loved her?” Brock asked. “His wife?”  
  
“Sure. As much as he could, in the ways that he could. He wasn’t a perfect guy. He had problems,” Darcy said. “Drugs, infidelity. He was flawed, but not incapable of love.”  
  
“Yeah, but did she deserve that?” he asked.  
  
“No, she didn’t. She loved him, though,” Darcy said. “He had that effect on people.”  
  
“Convenient for him. What’s Graceland like?” he asked.  
  
“Amazing. I wanted to move to Memphis. One of the hallways is carpeted on all the walls and the ceiling,” Darcy said. “It’s the hallway they take you through to see the Jungle Room.”  
  
“It made you want to move to Memphis?” he asked, sounding surprised.  
  
“I was eleven. Our hotel played 24/7 Elvis movies. You could call up to the front desk and request the next one. It was the happiest week of my life,” she said, smiling at the memory.  
  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bit about being "a brilliant reader who can't add" may or may not be based on a real author's 90th percentile in reading and 10th percentile in math on the GRE. ;)
> 
> The "making the world better with chocolate chip cookies" quote that Brock creeped from Darcy's Twitter bio & mentions again in this chapter is a reference to the movie Stranger Than Fiction, where Maggie Gyllenhaal quits Harvard to be a baker. It's in Darcy's 'Movies To Watch When I Have The Feels About My Academic Past' list, along with Cameron Crowe's Elizabethtown. She relates to Orlando Bloom's character in that one. Brock has cleverly sussed out her Big Sad Secret that only Jane & Thor really know about.


	8. Gardenias Say Secret Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Banner. Bruce Banner.

After she grabbed coffee and breakfast for her Science! people, Darcy queried Jarvis about protocols to avoid Steve in the building, only for the AI to tell her that Captain Rogers was in DC for the next several days. “You and and Ms. Romanoff will be training alone this afternoon as well,” Jarvis said.  
  
“J-man, that is a weight off my shoulders,” Darcy said. She’d been afraid he’d be lurking in the lab when she brought in the coffees. She hadn’t even thought about their training sessions.   


“Captain Rogers has instructed me to tell you that he will wait for your notification to re-initiate social contact, Miss Lewis.”  
  
“Oh my God, it’s like the third grade telephone version of ‘Are You Still Mad at Me?,’ Jarvis,” Darcy said with a little huff. “He could at least apologize first.”

“I believe Captain Rogers currently struggles with some social anxieties regarding you in particular, Miss Lewis. There was a long, rather heated group discussion in the common area last night, although I’m not at liberty to disclose particulars,” Jarvis said.  
  
“I hope Jane opened up a can of whoop ass on him,” Darcy muttered quietly.   
  
“It has been conveyed that Dr. Foster apparently lives up to Shakespeare’s maxim of ‘though she be but little, she is fierce,’ Miss Lewis,” Jarvis said, sounding as amused as an AI could possibly be.

  
“Thanks, J-man,” Darcy said as she reached the lab floor.   
  
  


  
***

  
  
“Janey, I hear you had my back last night. Have I told you that you’re a good bro?” she called out. “I brought you coffee and--what the hell? Did Tony piss off Pepper and drunk-dial a florist? Again?”   
  
The entire top of her desk was covered in flowers. There were at least a dozen mixed bouquets of purple hyacinths, marigolds, and daffodils. She had to shift several of them over to put down the coffees.   
  
“They’re all from Steve,” Jane said, peeking up over a spray of purple blooms at her elbow. “He brought them up before he left. I told him daisies were one of your favorites, but apparently these purple ones mean ‘forgive me’ and the the yellow daffodils symbolize apologies and new beginnings?”   
  
“There are ‘I’m sorry I’m a jerk flowers’? Really?” Darcy asked. “That’s a thing?”   
  
From the ceiling, Jarvis made a noise oddly like clearing his throat. “The Victorians gave flowers elaborate meanings, Miss Lewis, as a form of nonverbal communication. I believe the marigolds are meant to be suggestive of Captain Rogers’ grief at the loss of your friendship as a result of his actions. Marigolds can also symbolize cruelty and coldness rooted in jealousy.”   
  
“He is so weird,” Darcy said. “Why not just apologize in person?”   
  
“I might have scared him yesterday,” Jane admitted. “I told him that if he messed up his apology to you, I’d have Thor feed him to something Asgardian and unpleasant. While he was awake.”   
  
Darcy laughed. “Janey, I love you so much right now,” she said. “You would totally build a revenge Bi-Frost to help a sister out. What did he put on the card? Oh my God. Jane, the card just says, ‘I’m sorry, I’m an ass. Steve.’ It’s typed!”

“If I may, Miss Lewis, would you like me to convey to Captain Rogers that the flowers are insufficient?” the AI asked.  
  
“Nah, they’re fine, really. I don’t feel like holding a grudge. I’m too delighted by the mental image of Captain America telling a florist to say that he’s an ass. Tell him I accept his ‘my bad, Darcy flowers’ and I expect him to be on his best behavior when he gets back. Also, can you send someone up to distribute these around the common areas of the Tower and put one in my apartment? I’m sure I’m not the only one in the building who could use Captain America apology flowers,” Darcy said.  
  
Jane snorted and went back to Science!, leaving Darcy to admin like a badass and wonder where Agent Gelato was taking her on their second date. He’d refused to disclose a location over the phone.   
  
  
A few minutes later, Bruce Banner stuck his head into the lab and gave a wry little smile at the scene. “What’d I miss? Tony in trouble? Or Is it Jane and Thor’s anniversary?” he asked. It was a reasonable assumption, Darcy thought. Thor did tend to go big or go home on the gift front.

“Apology flowers from Steve for me, actually,” Darcy.   
  
“Huh. Well, nobody tell him the singing telegram is still an option, then,” Bruce said. Darcy clapped her hands.   
  
“Bruce, did you just make a joke? I’m so proud! Jane, our baby’s all grown up and finally experimenting with sarcasm,” she said. He blushed. He really was the sweetest man. Darcy tried to make him blush at least once a week. It usually involved flirting with him shamelessly when she brought him coffee and food. She’d tried every cheesy pickup line possible on him, including ones about falling from heaven. Only the fear of him hulking out in surprise--and feeling sad and guilty about it later--kept her from pinching his cheeks. Both sets.

“Huzzah!” Jane said from behind a machine. “You’re leveling up. Come help me with this fun readout then, you’ve earned it.”  
  
“I’ll grab you both a surprise to celebrate Bruce’s breakthrough,” Darcy said, rising from her chair. She had a mini fridge specifically for Science!-related celebrations in the next room. 

“I want a push pop!” Jane called.  
  
“You always want a push pop,” Darcy said. “Do you want an ice cream sandwich or a push pop, Bruce, thief of my heart, my Google?”

  
“Uh, ice cream sandwich, I guess? Google?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.   
  
“You have everything I’ve been searching for,” Darcy said, grinning. Jane laughed.   
  
“Oh, jeez. I’m supposed to tell you that Tony is throwing a We-Survived-An-Explosion party on Thursday and you’re both invited?” Bruce said, his expression faintly pink and torn between watching Jane or Darcy.

  
“Well, then, you have to be my gentleman escort,” Darcy said, winking at him. When he stuttered out something about planning on staying in, she shook her head. “Nope. I’m activating the Sadie Hawkins Protocol, Bruce. It’s one of our rules. You can’t welch out when Jane or I ask you to dance, either.”  


“We’re both terrible dancers,” Jane admitted, “but Thor doesn’t mind.”  


“I taught him the chicken dance. It’s a blast,” Darcy said, laughing and wagging her elbows. “You have to see it. For Science! and all that.”

  
Bruce sighed. “Okay, Darce,” he said. “I’ll even let you teach me the chicken dance. Can’t let Thor have all the fun.”   
  
“Just for that, you get an ice cream sandwich _and_ a push pop, babe,” Darcy said.   
  
“Hey, Darce?” Bruce asked absently as she reached the doorway. “Do you have a Band-Aid around here somewhere?”   
  
“Sure, Bruce,” she said.   
  
“...‘Cause I hit my head falling for you,” he said and smirked. Jane squealed.   
  
"Bruce, I love you. I've never loved any man the way I love you," Darcy said, clasping her hands over her heart. "Marry me?"  
  
"I want a dowry of push pops," Bruce said solemnly. "And possibly some jewelry."  
  
"Only the best for my baby doll," Darcy said.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and sweet comments!


	9. Gardenias Say Secret Love, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wild Clint appears.
> 
> I own nothing.

By five o’ clock that afternoon, Jane was in full-blown Science! mode with Bruce and Darcy could tell they were headed for an all-nighter. She made her patented Science! All Night coffee blend (50% French roast, 50% medium roast hazelnut flavored coffee) for Jane and asked Jarvis if Bruce had any preferences. It was impossible to detach Bruce from Jane’s research long enough for him to form coherent words on non-Science! topics, but Darcy had anticipated that outcome. Jarvis suggested a green tea blend.

Darcy acquired said green tea herself--outdoor breaks were good for her mental health--and had all her Science! babies sorted in perfect time for a Steve-free lesson with Nat. It was blissful. Nat even complimented her on how well she was taking her falls when they finished.  
  
“Hear that, Buff Arms, I crumple like a pro!” Darcy called out, having seen Clint in the rafters earlier.  She heard him chuckle in response.

Somehow, Clint fell in beside her in the hallway after her training lesson and asked if she’d like to have a beer with him. “In the vents?” Darcy asked, looking up dubiously.

“Nah, wherever. The labs?” he suggested.

“Deal. Do I get to pick the music?” she asked.  
  
“Sure, but I don’t want Nat to know if you get me to listen to Taylor Swift,” Clint said, looking over his shoulder nervously. “She’ll never let it go.”

Darcy snorted. “Taylor Swift is not beer music. We’re going to listen to Lucinda if I’m drinking beer,” Darcy said. “It’s non-negotiable.”

***

 

That was how Darcy found herself drinking beers with Clint in the labs, her feet propped up on a rolling chair, as Lucinda Williams crooned above their heads. They watched Jane and Bruce stare intently at one of the machines through a glass partition. Jane waved her arm up and down; Bruce ran a hand through his hair. Nothing was on fire yet, which Darcy counted as a plus.

“I like this song,” Clint said, swaying his shoulders. “You got layers, Taser Girl.”

“I know,” Darcy said. “I’m nifty like that.”

“Can you send me a playlist of these?” he asked. When she nodded, he continued, “I’m sorry about Steve. He’s got a thing he’s gotta work through. Not that that means you have to forgive him for being shitty to you.”

“Phfffft,” Darcy said, doing a so-so motion with her hand. “I think I can forgive him for misunderestimating me”--Clint chuckled at her George W. Bush impression--”because he’s been through some things, obviously. I just don’t get why he treats me so differently from Nat? Or even Jane?” She looked at Clint. Clint grinned.

“You really don’t see it, do you?” he said. “Damn, you don’t.” He laughed. “I’d tell you, but Nat would leave bits and pieces of me all over New Jersey and hex me in Russian. My soul would never rest,” he said, mock-seriously.

“Okay, keep your fingers and toes,” Darcy said, without bitterness. “Steve’s issues are Steve’s issues, like you said. We all have our issues. I’ll give him a second chance, because I believe you have to meet people where they are sometimes, but I’m not going to stress about it too much.”

“How do you figure that out? The second chances?” Clint asked, more seriously and Darcy knew he wasn’t asking about Steve anymore. He got a look sometimes. Darcy could tell it was about Loki.  
  
“You never get over it, but I think there’s too much that’s great in the world to give up, maybe? I mean, yeah. Aliens fall from the sky. But I’m alive in the same universe of space and time as Jane, Spot the Beagle, Lucinda Williams, and Reese’s Cups in seasonal shapes. I could have missed them. All tiny miracles, really.”  
  
“Reese’s? That’s keeping you going?” Clint said, grinning.

“That, large quantities of coffee, and the delightful knowledge that Robert Mitchum did a calypso album,” she said.  
  
“Huh?” Clint said.  
  
“Jarvis, will you play _Calypso is Like So_ for Clint?” she asked.

“Yes, Miss Lewis,” the AI said.  
  
“Thanks, dude,” she said. The sound of steel drums seeped in above them.  
  
“Holy shit, that’s Robert Mitchum?” Clint asked. Darcy nodded affirmatively. They listened in silence for a few minutes.

  
“I like to think about him recording this whenever I feel like the world isn’t funny anymore,” Darcy said.

  
Clint looked at her slyly. “Do you want to meet my dog?”

  
“You’ve got a dog? Here?” Darcy asked. “I thought Tony--”  
  
Clint tapped the side of his nose. “What Tony don’t know...” he said. “Come on, Pizza Dog will like you.”

   
  
***

 

When Darcy snuck back into the labs after eating pizza with Clint and Lucky, she found Bruce and Jane still Sciencing! to their heart's content. She smiled, made another pot of coffee for Jane, and left an extra pizza on the counter. She’d alert them to its presence eventually, if neither of them noticed by midnight. She sat down at her desk, looked at the one remaining bouquet of ‘I’m sorry’ flowers from Steve, and sighed.

“What am I going to do about you, Steve?” she asked out loud. The florescent lights buzzed in answer.

 

When she returned to her data entry for Jane, she realized there was a new message in her email inbox. She didn’t recognize the sender. It was an encrypted audiovisual file sent from a location that couldn’t be tracked. She clicked play.

The screen filled with a grainy image of a half-moon, hanging low over pine trees and then the camera adjusted. There was a body of water. It looked like a creek or a lake. The water was silvery in the twilight, the shoreline a pale orange in that way that meant the soil was clay, not sand. She could hear frogs and cicadas and see the currents moving the water, the soft ripples of the breeze. Then the scene cut away.  
  
The next thing she saw was a car stereo. It looked like the inside of a truck. The radio was playing Elvis’s “Loving Arms.” There was no other sound for several minutes. The song ended.

  
“This is where I am tonight, Darcy Lewis,” Brock Rumlow’s voice said and then the screen went black.

  
  
   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your sweet comments!


	10. Gardenias Say Secret Love, Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course Thor loves Barbara Stanwyck and Tony hates socks.
> 
>  
> 
> I own nothing. Nothing!

Darcy didn’t know how to respond to the video email. Did he want her to respond? She started mentally referring to it as The Video Thing with Implied Question Mark in her head. It didn’t help that she felt weird about showing it to Jane. It was so intimate. She was still staring at her emails when Jane un-Science! binged upon discovery of the pizza and asked why she was being so quiet. Darcy looked at Jane. Jane looked at her. They had a moment.  
  
“Screw it,” she said, “secrets are bad for our friendship, Janey.” She played the clip.  
  
“Wow,” Jane said.  
  
“What is that?” she asked. “What does it mean? What do I doooooooo?” she said, drawing the word out.  
  
“I think you’re going to have to convince Bruce to settle for being your Back-Up Husband, legally-speaking,” Jane joked. “But I hear Nepal is beautiful and they let women have more than one husband.”  
  
Darcy made a skeptical sound.  
  
“I think he probably likes you. Just like every single available man I know, including Larry the night security guard. And probably Natasha. Everyone with any sense or taste loves my bestie,” Jane said. With a chuckle, she went back to Sciencing! All Night, slices of pizza in hand. Darcy saw her whispering to Bruce, who grinned.  
  
“Hey, do I need to call a locksmith?” he called.  
  
“No, you’ve still got the key to my heart,” she sassed back.  
  
Darcy picked up her phone. No time like the present, she thought. If she waited, she might get nervous. She took a deep breath.  
  
**World’s Okayest Assistant** : I was expecting the song to be “Blue Moon.” How did you end up in the 1970s masters?  
  
A moment later, her phone buzzed.

 **Agent Gelato** : I have my ways. You eat steak, right?  
  
**World’s Okayest Assistant** : Please don’t send me a cow. Or cow parts. Wherever you are looks like there could be someone who sells cow out of the back of a truck.

 **Agent Gelato** : I’m cooking you dinner, Lewis.  
  
**World’s Okayest Assistant** : You cook?

 **Agent Gelato** :  Guess you’ll find out.

 **Agent Gelato** : At your place. Pick up your dirty clothes.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant** : Shut up, Brock.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant** : Was that in the file?

 **Agent Gelato** : I did buy boiled peanuts off the back of a truck this week. Allergies?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant** : None. It was in the file, wasn’t it? SHIELD knows about my laundry.

 **Agent Gelato** : Sweetheart, everyone knows you’re three weeks behind on laundry. We’ve seen you.  
  
**World’s Okayest Assistant** : ((rude emoji))

 **Agent Gelato** : You lived in VA. Any idea why southerners boil things when it’s so fucking hot around here?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant** : Stop trying to make me think about you all sweaty, I’m working. Working on important work.

 **Agent Gelato** : Easily distracted, Lewis?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant** : I don’t think about you that way at all. Not since Laundry-gate.  
  
**Agent Gelato** : Sure. See you at 8.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant** : My interest in you is totally platonic now.

 **Agent Gelato** : I’ll try to remember that the next time you start undressing me with your eyes.

  


***

 

Steve had apparently decided that flowers were his preferred form of interaction with Darcy. Nat mentioned he was too busy to return in time for Tony’s fancy schmancy party. However, as she and Jane were leaving her apartment to meet Bruce and Thor, a courier arrived. “What is this?” Darcy asked, when he handed her a small, clear box.  
  
“Gardenias and tuberose, ma’am,” the courier said, departing. Darcy raised an eyebrow at Jane.  
  
“It’s a corsage,” Jane said, giggling. “Did you not wear one to prom? You wear it on your wrist at fancy events, you heathen. It’s old-fashioned. I think it’s sweet of Steve.”  
  
“I think I wore Doc Martens to prom. Then I wore my dress again on Halloween when I went as Courtney Love,” Darcy said, slipping the corsage on her wrist. It smelled wonderful. She held it up for Jane to smell, grinning at Jane’s deep inhale and blissed-out grin.  
  
“That smells amazing,” Jane said. “I’m jelly.”  
  
“I’ve decided love it. I feel like I need to go poison my husband for insurance money or something. I’ve never felt so much like Lana Turner,” Darcy said, looking at her wrist. “I’m gonna wear these all the time now. Get myself a black veil and fancy stockings and about five rich, dead husbands.”  
  
“You watch too much TCM,” Jane joked, as Thor and Bruce came down the hallway.

 

“I am quite fond of the films of the lady Barbara Stanwyck!” Thor announced. “You look wonderful,” he said, beaming at them.  
  
“He likes brainy chicks, clearly,” Bruce said to Darcy as an aside.

“It’s what I love about that dude, Bruce,” Darcy said, watching Thor and Jane walk ahead of them. They both looked so happy and in love. It gave Darcy a warm fuzzy feeling. “You ready to chicken dance, Dr. Banner?”  
  
“Yes. You look fantastic, by the way,” Bruce said. “I’m a little stunned.”  
  
“That’s the general idea. Jane picked this out for me. She calls it my Jessica Rabbit Dress since it’s red and strapless. I think she wants to see how far Tony’s tongue will fall out. But as my date you get to have the most fun,” Darcy joked.  
  
“What?” Bruce said, looking slightly panicked.  
  
“I’ve got about ten rolls of boob tape up in here holding the girls in, but you’re still on boobwatch, my friend. They tend to want to make a run for the border at formal events,” Darcy said.  
  
“Oh,” Bruce said, looking relieved. “I think I can handle that.”

  


***

 

The party was typically Tony Stark: gorgeous people, expensive alcohol, great food, and completely bananas music choices. On the third cycle of Phil Collins--Tony had a real thing for the tv show _Miami Vice_ , which Darcy suspected was because he hated to wear socks--even Thor started to grumble about more music variety.

“Free Bird!” the Asgardian yelled. Jane had to restrain him from tossing a glass in lieu of a lighter wave. Bruce looked at Darcy. Darcy giggled. They were swaying slowly back and forth now; Darcy had consumed just enough champagne to make the robot hazardous.

“Did Thor just say what I think he said?” Bruce asked. Darcy leaned up against Bruce’s ear. The champagne had been very good and Bruce was a lovely date.  
  
“Can I tell you a secret?” she whispered. “Just between us. You can’t tell Tony.”  
  
“Yeah,” Bruce said. She could tell he was smiling.

  
“Let’s just say Loki’s mischief is totally nurture, not nature. Frost Giants don’t do jokes. Like, at all. So, when Thor is….”  
  
“Thor?” Bruce supplied helpfully.  
  
“Mmm-hmm. They got it from their mama,” Darcy said playfully. “Jane thinks she developed mad sarcasm skills being married to Odin for all those years. She didn’t just do magic, she threw magical shaaaaade, babe. Like, ‘oh, honey, you just found that blue baby when you were on the way home’ and stuff.”

“Oh, God, all Thor’s stories,” Bruce said suddenly. “He’s been screwing with us?”  
  
“Some are true. True-ish. I think he does really like snakes. We went to the zoo once and he tried to take some home,” Darcy said.

“Why is that not comforting?” Bruce said aloud. Darcy snorted. They watched Clint pass by them with a lampshade on his head. “I don’t think he’s that drunk, it’s just the music,” Bruce said.  
  
“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” she said. “You’re a good guy, Bruce Banner. I like you a lot.”  
  
“I’m glad I came, even if you did employ push pops as bribery,” Bruce said, smiling softly.  
  
“I owe you some jewelry, too,” Darcy said, hugging his neck gently and resting her cheek on one of Bruce’s shoulders.  

 

Eventually, the DJ mysteriously disappeared.  “Three cheers for Mother Russia!” Darcy whispered to Bruce. “Nat whacked the Phil Collins.”

“Comrade--,” Bruce began, before someone tapped him on the other shoulder.

“Do you mind if I cut in, Doctor?” a voice asked politely.  
  
“Of course not,” Bruce replied. Darcy lifted her head and looked up into the very beautiful, very blue eyes of one Captain Steve Rogers. He looked a little tentative.

 

“Oh, hey, Steve, I didn’t think you’d make it,” Darcy said awkwardly, disentangling her arms from Bruce’s neck. Bruce gave her a wink as Steve took her hands in his.  
  
“Have fun, you two,” the scientist said and disappeared.  
  
Steve was looking down at her wrist intently, as if fascinated. “Thanks for the, uh, corsage thing-y,” Darcy said. “I love it. I’ve never worn one before. It’s very film noir. Jane is jealous.”  
  
“I’m surprised you don’t want to throw it at me, Darce. I really owe you an apology, I was so stupid, I’d do anything, _anything_ to take it all back and start ov--uh,” he looked up at her. His face did a funny thing that was a jerk and a freeze at once.  
  
“Steve?” Darcy asked, alarmed. “You okay?” Darcy wondered if the serum could somehow suddenly un-serum, because Steve wasn’t breathing.  
  
“That’s--,” Steve whispered, “uh---that’s some dress, Darcy. You look beautiful.” His eyes were wide. He swallowed nervously, still holding her hands. “I forget what I was--uh,” he said and paused.  
  
“Are you all right?” Darcy said, trying to figure out if she needed to find an Epi-Pen or something.

“Yeah,” he said, looking oddly bereft as he let go of her hands. “Do you still want to dance?”

“Sure,” she said, stepping close to him and sliding her hands over his shoulders. “My footwork is awful, so I Bruce I have just been doing the ‘Sway Like Palm Trees’ all night. I don’t like, fox trot or waltz. That okay?”  
  
“Yeah,” Steve said in a low voice. They lapsed into an awkward silence. At least the feeling of Steve’s arms around her waist was nice. Warm. Close.  
  
“I could never talk to--you’re so beautiful. I think you’re beautiful,” he stammered suddenly in her ear. “I have trouble talking to you on a normal day, but seeing you tonight, I--this is...something else.”  
  
“Steve,” Darcy said gently, “You don’t need to lie to me, even if it’s just to be polite.” He was so Captain America, bless his poor misguided heart, she thought. He was trying to be chivalrous.  
  
Steve turned his head sharply and stumbled a little. “What?” he said.  
  
“You talk to Nat just fine,” Darcy said, smiling. “And she’s the most beautiful woman in this room. In all the rooms.”  
  
Steve snorted. “I have a hard time finding Nat beautiful when she does that smug little smirk after she hits you,” he said. Darcy laughed. He sounded like a pouting toddler again.

“Okay, Steve,” she said, amused. “I’m prettier than the Black Widow and it’s throwing you for a loop. Also, her smile gets on your nerves. We can pretend if you want. It’s cute of you to be so gallant, Cap.” She patted the back of his neck. He stopped swaying to the music.  
  
“Darcy,” Steve said. He leaned in, close to her ear, and spoke quietly. “I--I just feel protective. When Nat takes a crack at you, it makes me just about lose my mind. Can we go out on the balcony? I need air.”  
  
“Okay,” she said, following him.

  
  
***

  
  
  
There was a nice breeze. Darcy took a deep breath. Steve had walked over to the railing and was holding on with one hand while he ran his other hand through his hair. “I want to wrap you up in some of that bubble sheet stuff that Tony loves and keep you safe,” he said.  
  
“Bubble sheet?” Darcy asked, confused. Steve wasn’t making sense.  
  
“That stuff--the stuff that goes pop pop pop?” Steve said, gesturing with his free hand. “I do listen to you, Darcy, I know you’re intelligent and capable. I write down lots of things you say in this little notebook I have, you know, to catch up? I loved those Ron Rash poems and stories you mentioned to Jane the other day. Cried for an hour at that one about the little girl drowning in the river. That Toni Morrison book, too, that was incredible. Heartbreaking. It’s not that I don’t think you’re smart, Darcy. Hell, I’m always trying to keep up.”  
  
“Steve,” Darcy said, realization dawning, “do you mean bubble wrap?”  
  
“Yeah,” he said, nodding firmly. “That’s it.”  
  
“Um,” she asked carefully, “did Thor give you something to drink?” Thor’s secret flask of Asgardian liquor could get an elephant drunk.  
  
“Just a nip to calm me down,” Steve said. “I was afraid you hate me. Had to work up the nerve to talk to you.” He swayed a little on his feet. “I think it might be hitting me now?”  
  
“Okay, let’s just sit down, Steve. Right here on this lounge chair, okay?” she said, guiding him over to a lounge chair. He folded himself down a bit too rapidly.  
  
“Sit next to me for a minute?” Steve asked, patting the spot next to him. She sat down and looked at him. He looked lost. “I’m so sorry, Darcy, I can’t say this right to save my life.”

“I don’t hate you,” Darcy said. She patted his knee. “You’re all right.” He chuckled.  
  
“I’m a damn mess. My friend Sam, the one who does counseling, he thinks I’m trying to make up for my feelings of, uh, lack of control in my life by being bossy,” Steve said. He leaned back in the lounge chair and sighed. “I push people away when I just don’t want to lose them.”  
  
“Hmm. Okay, how about this? Let’s work out a code. If I think you’re being bossy, I’ll say ‘Bubble Wrap,’ and we’ll talk about something else,” Darcy suggested. “Agreed?”  
  
“Yeah,” Steve said.  
  
“Now scoot over and tell me which Toni Morrison got to you, Cap,” she said.  
  
“It was _The Bluest Eye_ ,” Steve said, putting his arm around her. “Jesus, that lady can write. I was gutted. Never read anything like that before. I can’t stop thinking about it.”  
  
She listened to Steve talk about Toni Morrison until he fell asleep.  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link to the the Ron Rash poems and excerpts that made Steve cry: https://southernspaces.org/2007/saints-river-and-selected-poems


	11. This Low Commotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's always Larry the night security guard if this doesn't work out, right?
> 
> I own nothing. Nothing!

Somehow, handing out hangover remedies to her Science! babies on Friday morning didn’t feel like a chore. Darcy refused to acknowledge that the excited little buzz in her day was second date related. She wouldn’t grin like an idiot.

 

“Hot date, huh?” Tony asked, looking surprisingly fresh when he wandered by.

“What? Ye-nope. How are you not hungover?” she asked.

“Decades of practice, Itty Bitty. Also, you keep smiling to yourself when you think no one’s looking,” he said, sitting on the edge of her desk. “Need a car for tonight or anything? Reservations?” 

“Tony, you’re a prince pretending to be a frog. Thank you for the sweet offer, but he’s cooking me dinner here,” Darcy said, smiling. 

“Ohh,” Tony said, shaking his head. “Honey, that look is the face of woman who lets a man get away with murder.”

“Aww, are you worried about my virtue?” Darcy asked, winking.

 

Jane popped up from the back of the lab: “We know that ship has sailed. I think Tony’s more worried you’ll give him a kidney or your ATM pin.”

 “Kidneys _are_ more important than virtue to daily functionality,” Tony said, sounding thoughtful. He scratched at his goatee.

“Shut up, you Science! trolls. I’ll replace your coffee with decaf,” Darcy threatened. Tony pretended to have a heart attack and scampered off to play with Rhodey and Clint.

 

So what if Darcy made a whole playlist that was just different covers of The Cure’s “Just Like Heaven” while Jane was busy with Science!? She had it totally under control. She had it under control when Nat got hits in during training, too. She wasn’t distracted. Nope. No, siree. She hadn’t even changed into pjs and stressed baked chocolate chip muffins after getting Thor to carry Steve home last night. No insomnia for her. She didn’t have a whole lot of nervous energy. Nuh-uh.

  
***  
 

These were just random, unprompted muffins she happened to have for reasons. She decided to take some to Tony’s labs. Offering to send a car _had_ been nice of him. She found him deep in Science! welding and blasting Queen at eardrum-shattering levels. She gestured to the muffins, he waved back, and she shut the door, yelling, “Party on, Wayne!” to Jarvis.

 

“I understood that reference,” a soft voice said behind her.

 

“Oh, hey, Steve! You feeling okay? I didn’t see you at the gym today,” she said.  
  
“I’m, uh, fine. I just thought you’d want me out of your hair,” Steve said, sounding guilty and shifting onto his heels.  
  
She grinned. “Captain Rogers, you’re listening to people. For that, you get a muffin,” she said, handing him one. He smiled and took it.  
  
“These look great, Darce, thanks.”  
  
“Wait, how do you know about _Wayne’s World?”_  she asked.

“Tony made me watch it,” he said. “I liked it a lot, actually. It reminded me of when I was growing up,” he said, falling in step with her.

“Huh. Steve, are you holding out on me?” Darcy asked. “Did you host a late night cable access show with your buddy Garth?”  
  
“No,” he said, chuckling, “but we did a lot of hanging around, talking about what we’d do one day, when we had some money. They had diners back in my day, too. Looking in windows, imagining the thing you’ll be able to afford sometime, just not now. Dreaming, bullshitting, talking about girls.”

  
“Lots of girls chasing you around, Wayne?” she teased. He blushed.

“No,” he said, drawing out the word. “That was my buddy Bucky. He was Wayne. I was Garth.”  
  
“So, what did you want? Not a guitar?” she asked.

  
“Art supplies,” he said shyly, ducking his head. “There was this shop in Brooklyn. I used to go and look at the window displays. They had this easel that was a week’s salary back then. I couldn’t afford anything more than paper and some cheap pencils. The first time I saw how much oil paint cost, I almost passed out.” His voice was wistful. He was looking at the muffin in his hand like it was from another world.

“What kind of easel do you have now?” she said, trying to cheer him up.

“I don’t,” he said, softly. “I don’t even know where to start. I never thought I’d have money to spend, but somehow, doing it alone is--,” he paused. Sighed deeply.

 

“I gotcha,” Darcy said. “You know, that’s why Jane keeps me around. If I got another job, she’d have to buy her favorite galaxy-print duct tape alone and it would be too sad.”  
  
“I’m sure she keeps you around for more than that,” Steve said softly, his eyes still on the muffin. “Bet she would be hopeless without you.”

“Nah, she’d survive, as long as my Stark life insurance works out. I have a Pop Tart Contingency in my will, so someone feeds her with my money, if the aliens get me first,” Darcy said.

 “Ha, ha,” Steve said dryly. “Very funny.” He didn’t smile.

  
“Look at you, thinking I’m joking. We both have them, only hers says I have to keep an eye on Thor in the event of her death. I pray that doesn’t obligate me to marry him, in Asgardian terms,” Darcy joked.  
  
“I thought you were close?” Steve asked, confused.  
  
“Not _that_ close! He’s like my big, muscly, adorable bro. Also, Odin would be a nightmare as a father in law. Totally would exile you over the littlest thing. ‘Daughter in law, my ale is empty! To Midgard! Daughter in law, your half-Midgardian brat cries too much! To Midgard with you both!’ It would be really awkward at the major holidays,” she said. He chuckled.  
  
  
  
They fell into a quiet silence on the elevator. Steve looked queasy, all of a sudden, probably from the drop. She wondered if he’d recovered from his first encounter with Thor’s flask yet. He hadn’t said. When she’d had a thimble of that stuff, she’d been out of commission for a week.  
  
When they got to her lab floor, he cleared his throat.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea,” Darcy said, as inspiration struck.  
  
“Shoot,” Steve said, looking relieved that he didn’t have to make conversation. “Um, I mean, go ahead, please?” Bless his polite little pukey heart, Darcy thought. He was trying to be nice to her and not vomit, too. She’d meet him halfway.

  
“Why don’t we go easel and paint shopping together sometime, Steve? Are you busy on Sunday? I know a craft supply place. I might need to get Clint some purple glitter for, uh, reasons. That you are not to tell Tony about, Captain Rogers,” she asked.

“Oh,” Steve said, beaming. “I’d like that. I’m free Sunday.” Then he groaned. “Oh, God, you gotta warn me ahead of time Darcy, glitter is impossible to get out of my suit.”  
  
“Deal. I’ll warn you about _the nothing that is happening,_ okay?” She grinned. “Hey, do you know about doo wop yet? I think you’d like du wop music.”  
  
“Doo wop?” Steve asked, clearly lost. He pulled out a little notebook. 

“The Drifters, the Platters, etc. I’ll send you a playlist, you don’t have to write them down. I think you’d like it, it’s from the fifties and sixties. Not new new. Oh, man, I bet you’d love the Cascades. “Rhythm of the Rain” is such a great song. And, oooh, Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons!” she said, clapping her hands together.  
  
“All new to me,” Steve said, smiling a little at her enthusiasm.

“Okay, then,” she said, pulling out her phone and pressing buttons. “Done! Jarvis and I have sent you music. You don’t want to come back here, Jane is Sciencing! while a teensy bit hungover. She might threaten you a little.”

“Oh,” Steve said. “Uh, no, don’t want that.”  
  
“Bye, Steve. I’ll see you Sunday! It’s a date,” Darcy said, giving him a little wave and turning down the hallway. She left a beaming and faintly stunned Steve standing by the elevator.

 

“See you Sunday,” he whispered to himself, still holding his muffin.

 

***  
  


“Jarvis, why has Capiscle stopped one of my elevators?” Tony asked, pausing his bro-shenanigans to swig coffee and stare at a holographic image of the elevator. Steve appeared to be leaning his head against one of the walls.  
  
“I’m afraid he received a playlist from Miss Lewis, sir, and requested that I stop the elevator for a moment while a song was playing,” the AI said. “Captain Rogers was a little overwhelmed.”  
  
“Aww, she sent him a mixtape?” Clint asked. “Those kids are gonna be cute.” Tony grinned.

 

“There’s a song that can shake up Captain America?” Rhodey asked, looking surprised.  
  
“She has good taste in music,” Clint said. “Also, he’s terrible at talking to women. Really terrible. Nat had to keep Thor from hulking out on him ‘cause he insulted her.”

 

“I believe it was The Flamingos’ “I Only Have Eyes for You,” Colonel Rhodes,” Jarvis said.  
  
“Nice,” Rhodey said.  
  
“Has he actually asked her out yet?” Tony asked.  
  
“I’m afraid not, although Miss Lewis is taking him shopping for art supplies on Sunday,” Jarvis said. Clint got a speculative gleam in his eye.  
  
“Make sure we’ve got that song playing on all the quinjets. And make it Cap’s ringtone, Jarvis,” Tony said.  
  
“Man, y’all are more gossipy than the grandmas at church,” Rhodey said. “That’s not right.”  
  
“I’m giving Capiscle some motivation,” Tony said seriously. “Rambo’s cooking her dinner tonight,” he said, making significant eye contact with Clint. “Nat said he’ll be here at 8.”  
  
“Shit, Cap. Hurry up. That guy ain’t playing. You need to shake a leg, man,” Clint said to the image of Steve. He was still on the elevator.  
  
“Why’s he holding a muffin?” Rhodey said.  
  
“You want one? They’re chocolate chip,” Clint said, reaching into his secondary belt quiver. “She left me some in the vent above the lab.”  
  
“Nah, thanks, though,” Rhodey said, looking dubiously at Clint’s bag.  
  
“She wrapped ‘em in plastic wrap first,” Clint said, slightly offended.

  


***  
  


At approximately 7:53pm, Jarvis announced to Darcy that Mr. Rumlow had entered the building. “He appears to have brought some bags of groceries with him, Miss Lewis. Shall I send him up?” the AI asked.  
  
“Yes,” she said, “unless he needs my help carrying stuff. Does he?”  
  
“Mr. Rumlow appears to have everything well in hand,” Jarvis said. “He is proceeding to your floor as we speak. I have notified him of your apartment number and the relevant directions.”

  
“Thanks, J-man,” Darcy smoothed down her hair and checked her lipstick in the mirror she’d hung by the front door. _Breathe, breathe, breathe_ , she told herself. It was just a guy cooking her dinner after all. Who cares if he was exceptionally hot and probably knew exactly how much he was her type? She was fine. She was a Fancy Science! Lady and a damn good catch. If this didn’t work out, she’d ask out Larry the night security guy. Jane was never wrong about these things and Larry was good people. She could be happy with someone like Larry. A night security guard wouldn’t want to get up early on weekends, which was a delightful bonus.  
  
A second later, there was a gentle wrap on the door. She opened the door and found Brock Rumlow leaning casually against her doorframe, bags at his feet. He was wearing a grey v-neck tee and jeans. He had a pair of aviator sunglasses tucked into his shirt collar, right at her eye level. The weight of them pulled his collar down, revealing the muscle definition at his sternum.  
  
“Hi,” she said. Intelligently.  
  
“Hello, Darcy Lewis,” he said, grinning. “I hope you like Italian.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title inspired by the Timber Timbre song. Very much a Brock song.


	12. Pistachios, Saffron, & Oranges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second date.
> 
> *I own nothing. Nothing!

“I have something fun for you,” Brock said, as they unpacked the groceries. “Here,” he said, opening a small bag. “Smell that. What do you think?”  
  
“These are pistachios? I’ve never seen any that are this green,” she said. “They almost smell sweeter?”  
  
“These are Sicilian raw pistachios. It’s the volcanic soil on the island that makes them like that. Totally different from anywhere else,” he said. “My sister would love to be able to use them for gelato, but they’re too expensive to scale for commercial.”  
  
“Are we making gelato?” she asked.  
  
“ _We_ are not doing anything, sweetheart. You are going to sit right there and have some of that wine while I make you this risotto,” he said, gesturing to the nearest barstool. “Where do you keep your corkscrew?”  
  
“Oh. Drawer next to the stove. Glasses above, pans over there. Is this your ‘impress girls’ recipe, then?” she asked. He was totally in control of her kitchen. How had he done that?  
  
“Nah, it’s more of a family thing. We took a trip out there a few years ago--my sister, her husband, my nieces--and they serve these pistachio arancini. You had arancini? No? It’s streetfood. They take risotto, roll it into balls, put fillings in ‘em, and deep fry them. I really liked these saffron ones with whole pistachios inside, so I reverse-engineered them and turned them back into a risotto with pistachios on top,” he said, handing her a full glass. The wine was very good. She made an appreciative noise. He grinned.  
  
“So, I just get to sit back and watch you make risotto for twenty minutes?” she asked. “With wine?”  
  
“Yeah, sweetheart. That sound good to you?” he said, smiling.  
  
“I have one question,” she said.  
  
“Okay, I’m a captive audience.”

“How does a Sicilian guy end up named Brock Rumlow?” she asked. He laughed joyfully.  
  
“That’s a story. That’s _the_ story, as far as my life goes. You ready?” he asked. She nodded.  “Well, we gotta start with my great-grandparents. They emigrated to New York from Sicily around the turn of the century. There was labor unrest and mafia shit going on at the time, I’ve never been able to get a clear story about why. Nobody wants to talk about it. They were Faragis, which is an Arab Sicilian name, but you know--”  
  
“Because of the Muslim conquest of Sicily?” she asked.  
  
His whole face lit up. “Nobody I meet ever knows about that, sweetheart. It’s why Sicily has pistachios and saffron and oranges,” he said, smiling. “Anyway, once they get here, my great-grandfather becomes more Sicilian than fucking Palermo. It’s not enough for his children to marry other Italians, they gotta marry Sicilians. He was a real hard ass, so he bullies the sons into line. My grandmother, Teresa, is the baby and the only girl. She is his absolute favorite. He has big plans for her. He wants her to marry into this one particular family in the neighborhood. My nonna is a good girl, the nicest girl. Quiet and dutiful. She never raises her voice. They say she was even an easy baby. She agrees to his plan, because she’s never argued with her old man in her whole damn life.”  
  
“Oh, no,” Darcy said. “I sense an argument coming on.”

 

“Uh-huh,” he said. “So, the marriage is all set. I think they’d even gotten her a dress. One afternoon she is walking down the street and sees some guy standing there. Frank Rumlow. She falls for him on the spot. He falls for her. Frank Rumlow is not Sicilian. Frank Rumlow is not even Italian, he is Irish. Still, she comes home immediately and says she’s gonna marry him. Her father is outraged. His pride is hurt. How dare his baby, his whole heart, disobey him. He shouts. He threatens Frank Rumlow in various creative ways. He begs. He slaps her. He threatens to throw her out. Throughout all this, my grandmother is unwavering. She’s gonna marry Frank Rumlow. She doesn’t shout, she doesn’t scream, she doesn’t hit her father back. She just takes all that pain and holds steady. She knows who she is and what she wants. Finally, my great-grandfather looks at her, just sitting there, so calm in the face of all his rage and collapses. She’s the one person he can’t bully and the person he loves the most. She’s just as hard as him, only quiet about it. He’d missed it this whole time. He’s either gonna kill her or she’s gonna marry Frank Rumlow. Will you hand me that?”  
  
“So, she marries Frank Rumlow?” Darcy said, passing him the saffron.  
  
“She did. In the dress her father got to impress the Sicilian groom’s relatives,” Brock said, laughing and stirring. “In the end, they had to make Grandpa Frank an honorary Sicilian. My grandma was special. She believed in destiny. She thought things happened for a reason and he was the big thing in her life. There was nobody else for her. It helped that Frank could talk the paint off a house. Eventually, her father decided he liked Frank better than his own sons, believe it or not. They were pissed.”  
  
“It sounds like you’re close to them,” Darcy said.  
  
“Were. They passed away when I was in my early 30s. They were my real parents, to be honest,” he said, shrugging. “My sister and I lived with them. My mother died when we were little and my father--Frank Jr.--was Navy and then a SHIELD agent, so he was always stationed somewhere or in the wind.”  
  
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Darcy said.  
  
“Sweetheart, don’t be. Growing up with them was the highlight of my life. My father gets his asshole genes from the Faragi side. He and I aren’t close. He’s difficult. It set him back at SHIELD. They made him take early retirement. He was always antagonizing the shit out of people. I’ve tried to learn not to take shit personally, just from watching him,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “It holds you back from your job. I’m lucky Fury was willing to take me on in DC when my first STRIKE position opened, given how many bridges my father burned.”  
  
“And now you’re STRIKE team leader,” Darcy said. He laughed.  
  
“Only because my nonna pushed me to take the promotion before she died. I’d gone as far as I could go with SHIELD in New York, but they were in their eighties and I was worried about leaving them. She thought it was a sign that the DC office is called Triskelion,” he said. “I was meant to go. She talked my sister into moving back in with them, so I’d have no excuse not to apply for the job.”  
  
“Why did she think Triskelion was so important?” Darcy asked.  
  
“Because the flag of Sicily has a Triskelion on it,” he said, grinning. “To represent the three sides of the island.”

 

***

  
  
“That was very good, by the way,” she said, as she watched him do the dishes after they’d finished eating. He’d insisted.  
  
“Are you impressed enough yet?” he asked, pouring her more wine. “To agree to a third date?”  
  
“Enough to make out with you on my couch,” she said, reaching for his hand. “Come on, show me your other skill set.”  
  
It turned out to be a very good skill set. Experienced. A little playful and teasing. She was very into what he was doing with his teeth to her bottom lip when he broke the kiss, pulling slightly away. “There’s something I should tell you,” he said. “About your file.” His voice was strained from breathing heavily.  

She licked her lips. “Is this really the best moment?” she asked.

“Maybe not. But I have a guilty conscience,” he said softly. His eyes were guarded.  
  
She looked at the rise and fall of his chest, tracing his collarbone with her index finger. She’d never seen a clavicle like that man had. A work of art. It was some sort of Michelangelo sculpture in bone. He shivered and leaned back in slightly to her touch. “Stop distracting me from my guilt,” he said.

 

“Tell me. Get right with God. Then I can ruin you thoroughly,” Darcy said. She was drawing up plans for that five o’clock shadow he was working and her skin.

“Don’t joke. I didn’t just read your file recently,” he said quietly.  
  
“No kidding,” she said.  
  
“I’m the one who made your file,” he said.  
  
“What?” she said. He tensed a little.  
  
“I was on desk duty with an injured shoulder when New Mexico happened,” he said. “Coulson used to let me do office work when I got hurt because he knew I had no life and it made me feel useful.”  
  
“You get hurt a lot?” she asked.

 

“I’m trying to keep up with guys in their twenties and super-serumed kids from WWII, Lewis, I get hurt sometimes,” he said, huffing a laugh. “Anyway, I was working the desk then. You were assigned to me. Your photograph came over the e-wire. I filed the field reports and did deep background on you, to make sure you were who you were supposed to be. I might’ve taken the data home and worked on it for awhile. Talked to people.”  
  
“Like, what people?” she asked. He wouldn’t make eye contact.

 

“Anyone who’d talk to me. Teachers, classmates, neighbors, old boyfriends, whoever.”

 

“That still sounds mostly like your job description,” she said.

 

“Yeah, but Coulson would have been concerned had he realized that I was calling your voicemail from burner phones so I could hear what you sounded like,” he said, giving her a sad sort of smile. “You broke me a little. The day I met you, you _knew._  You hit me with that _Laura_ bit right off the bat.”  
  
“But, wait, it’s been years. Are you telling me you’ve been watching me since New Mexico?” she asked.  
  
“No, no, I swear.” He raised his arms in surrender. “I made myself try to forget you when I went off desk duty and New Mexico was closed. I figured you would go on with life, back to school, and away from SHIELD’s radar. I figured your internship with Jane would be short term and you’d be safe. You didn’t need somebody like me in your life,” he said. “I thought I’d only make you unhappy.” He took a deep breath. “I know how it sounds. Do you want me to go? I can go.”  
  
“Not particularly.” She laughed. “Shit. I thought you were going to tell me something really terrible, like you don’t recycle or you think Folgers is real coffee. What happened next?” she asked. A little tension left his shoulders.

 

“You’re asking me? I was in fucking Morocco, jumping out of planes with Cap, and then I turn on my laptop and you’re all over the damn STRIKE daily emergency bulletins with elves. There were videos. Fucking elves, baby.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It was the best and worst day of my whole damn life.” He chuckled. “Worst, because I didn’t know you were even in danger.”

 

“Best because?” she asked.  
  
“You were okay. I felt like it was a sign. Teresa Rumlow would have called it one. She would have smacked me upside my head and told me to get my ass to wherever you were back in New Mexico, actually. Show up, make shit happen, take the risk,” he said.  
  
“You never felt tempted to contact me before that?” she said.      
  
“Of course I was. But what was I supposed to do? Track you down and say, ‘Hi, I’m a stranger, you don’t know me, but I know everything about you, have dinner with me’ or some shit? Show up with roses and quote your favorite Paul Newman movie proposal?” he said. “You would have tased me.”  
  
“You would have probably liked it,” she said.  
  
“Uh-huh,” he said. “I can’t believe you aren’t tossing me out on my ass right now.” He kissed her. “How fucking much did I luck out when I sat in a hotel room in North Africa and yelled at someone until they’d tell me when you were debriefed?” he whispered, nuzzling her face and pressing his nose against her cheekbone.  
  
“You aren’t that scary. I don’t even have a favorite Paul Newman movie,” she said, “you must’ve slept through some of Research 101.”  
  
He grinned and kissed her neck, moving to whisper in her ear:  “Sure, baby. All right then. Run, Darcy Lewis. Keep on running. Buy yourself a bus ticket and disappear. Change your name, dye your hair--and then maybe, just maybe, you’re gonna be safe from me.”  
  
“Oh, SHIELD is just evil,” she said, flushing hotly. His Paul Newman impression was very good. Tony would have called it panty-melting. “That movie is my secret kryptonite. I don’t even watch it with Jane!”  
  
“You watch that scene a lot, though, sweetheart,” he said. “It resonated.” His voice was soft. “Lots of things about you resonate for me, Darcy Lewis. You think you failed because you’re still Jane’s assistant?” he asked her.  
  
She nodded. “Sometimes.”  
  
“That’s not true.”  He put his hands on either side of her face, his expression intense. “My nonna would say you were meant to meet her and stay. You didn’t fail anything. You and Jane saved each other. You’re going to keep saving each other, day by day. You’re right where you need to be,” Brock said gently. He tapped her mouth with his index finger, turning mock-serious again. “You hear me, avalanche kitten?”

 

“All right, Mr. Rumlow, I trust your nonna’s judgement,” she said. He smiled.

  
“Good girl. My grandmother was a lot more sensible than your grandmother. Five speeding tickets in one year? She’s seventy-three. How’d she do that?” he teased.  
  
“She’s always done that, only now she can’t flirt her way out of them anymore,” Darcy said, wrapping her arms around his neck.  
  
“A heartbreaker like you, huh? I better be on my guard. On that note, I should probably go,” he said. He ran one hand down her arm, looking wry. “This couch is a dangerous place for a man.”  
  
“Why? Not having fun anymore?” she said.  
  
“Oh, baby, you’re a lot of fun. We could have hours of fun together. But I don’t think I should stay tonight. It’s not fair to tell you all this and then not give you any time to process your feelings,” he said.  
  
“Agent Rumlow,” she asked, grinning, “did you just quote Oprah?”  
  
“Hey, I’ve seen the SHIELD therapist once or twice. I know the stakes. I climb in your bed tonight, maybe you decide you don’t want to see me no more tomorrow. I can’t have that,” he said. “I’m gonna take this real slow, sweetheart. Slow and easy.”  
  
  
“Uh-huh,” she said, “that’s a great freaking line, you know that?” He threw back his head and laughed.  
  
“I try my best,” he said, standing up. “It’s not as good as your outgoing voicemails were, though.”  
  
“Oh, yeah? Which one was your favorite?” she asked, as she walked him to her door.  
  
“Probably that one where you told people to leave a message for Lewis and Foster’s Morgue,” he said. “I might have kept it longer than the one that was just Jane saying ‘who gave you this number?’ and fake screaming.”  
  
“Hey, I’ll have you know that was me doing the screaming,” Darcy said.  
  
He arched an eyebrow. “You don't say.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The actor who plays Brock is Italian-American, but I'm not, so all errors are mine.
> 
> The Paul Newman line that Brock quotes/paraphrases is from "The Long, Hot Summer."


	13. Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nat meddles a little. It's very low-key. Darcy doesn't notice.
> 
> *I own nothing. Nothing!

Darcy woke up on Saturday morning, post-second date, in a dreamy, pining mood. It could have been nothing, but it was probably the way Brock Rumlow had kissed her goodnight and joked about getting her out of character on their third date. Damn that man’s Paul Newman impression. It made her feel all flushed and disoriented. It wasn’t fair play.

 

Her eyes fell on the little vase of water on her nightstand, where she’d put the biggest gardenia from Steve’s corsage after Thursday’s party. It was only a little browned. “Good morning, Jarvis. Can you play me some Billie Holiday, please?” she asked.

 

“Yes, Miss Lewis,” the AI said, sounding amused. “Are you well this morning?”  
  
“It was a very intense second date, J-Man,” she said. The sounds of Lady Day filled her apartment. “Thank you. By the by, do people still wear gardenias in their hair?” she asked.

 

“It is possible to order either real gardenias or silk gardenias for that purpose,” the AI said. “Would you like me to place some orders for you?”  
  
She spent entirely too much money on hair clips and some sweetly-scented new plants for her apartment. If Brock Rumlow was going to weaponize those gorgeous cheekbones of his to leave her reeling, she would give back as good as she got.

“I’ll have that man’s jaw on the floor,” she said aloud, musing on the word _resonate_. If he thought he knew everything about her, he hadn’t realized how much of himself he’d given away. She might even make him wait until the fourth date.

  
“Pardon me?” Jarvis asked.  
  
“Where is Queen Jane right now, J-man?” Darcy asked.  
  
“I believe Dr. Foster is in her lab at present,” the AI said.

 

“Tell her I’m on my way down, please, and that I need her serene highness’s assistance with a dress,” Darcy said. “We’re getting danishes and shopping ‘til we drop.” Jane would definitely go Third Date Dress shopping with her, just for the fun of it all.

 

 

***

 

“What kind of a dress are we looking for again?” Jane asked, when they were knee-deep in clothing racks.  
  
“Now I’m thinking something slightly old-fashioned,” Darcy said. “Scoop neck, maybe? Little bit of swish in the skirt. Casual fabric, so it looks like I’m not trying.”  
  
Jane looked at her quizzically. “Isn’t that more of a Steve-friendly dress?” she asked.  
  
“He’s vexed me, Jane. He knows my favorite old movies. He keeps quoting Paul Newman and smoldering at me,” Darcy said. “And then he leaves!”  
  
“Oooh, Paul Newman is your weakness,” Jane said. “He has been checking up on you.”  
  
“Right? He’s being achingly smug about it, too,” Darcy said.  
  
“Someone’s aching,” Jane said in a low voice and Darcy laughed.  
  
“Hush, you,” she said, holding up a dress and putting it back down when Jane shook her head. “I’m turning the tables. Two can play this game. He’s a flirt. I can tell he likes the chase. The man’s obsessed with Sicily and I’m a curvy brunette. I’d bet Tony’s money that he has some fantasy where I’m dressed in a Sophia Loren cotton dress and we wander around, like, humid lemon groves and he musses me up a little.”

 

“Hmmm. Am I culturally stereotyping if I say that reminds me of Michael’s first wife in _The Godfather?”_ Jane asked.  
  
“Oh my God, Car Bomb Wife! I mean, maybe it’s a little stereotypical, but that’s totally what I want. The little summer dress she wears while they walk. What was her name?” Darcy said.  
  
“Did she have one?” Jane said, pushing aside some shirts. “I just don’t know where to find something like that here. What if we call Pepper?”

 

“Jane, you’re a genius and I love you,” Darcy said. “Pepper will know what to do.”  
  
“I know you do. Maybe she was like the second Mrs. deWinter and they never actually said her name?” Jane suggested hopefully.  
  
“More importantly, are we bad feminists if we like her more than Kay?” Darcy asked.  
  
“Darcy, Kay Corleone went to college in the 1940s and asked her terrible husband for a divorce,” Jane said sternly.  
  
“But that was like her one thing,” Darcy said. “Jane, Kay’s dull. Total waste of Diane Keaton’s talents. The first wife’s name is going to bug me.”  
  
“Look it up on your phone,” Jane said.  
  
“Sometimes you are annoyingly sensible,” Darcy said. “How am I supposed to develop any neuroses if you make me be practical?”

  
***

It transpired that Pepper Potts had five different personal shoppers on speed dial. In no time whatsoever, a very nice woman met them at the Tower with an array of what she called “potentials,” leaving them to be returned later. Pepper had very sweetly said she would take care of everything.

 

They took them up to Jane and Thor’s apartment on the Avengers floor, since Jane had Thor-sized mirrors. Darcy picked out a series of dresses and proceeded to model them for Jane. Jane couldn’t decide. She called Nat, who studied each dress intently and then shook her head. Both of them thought Darcy’s favorite sundresses were nice, but there was no leading contender.  
  
“How can they all be the same level of good?” Darcy asked. Nat looked carefully at the pile of dresses and then plucked one that Darcy had eliminated without trying on. It was light blue with a pink rose print and she’d worried it might be too costume-y.  
  
“This one,” Nat said. “The square neckline is very flattering.” When Darcy put it on, Jane immediately smiled.  
  
“That’s a good dress,” the scientist said. “Nat’s right; it’s very you.” Natasha gave one of her half-smiles.  
  
“Are you sure?” Darcy asked.

“Maybe you need a man’s opinion, milaya,” Nat said. “Tony is in the common area. Why not show him?” she asked.

 

 

“Hey, Tony, what do you think of Darcy’s dress? Does it make you think of Jane Russell at a picnic?” Jane joked, as they came through the door. Only it wasn’t Tony.

“Uh, sorry, he left a little while ago,” Steve said, jumping to his feet.  
  
“What do you think, Steve?” Darcy asked, doing a little turn and swirling her skirt. “Nat and Jane think this is the one.”

Steve stared at her and didn’t speak for a minute. He blinked. Darcy looked at him. Finally, he cleared his throat. “It’s, uh, nice?” he asked.

“See, it’s too costume-y! Even Steve thinks so. Nice is code for awful,” Darcy said. “I’m worried I look like a shabby chic shower curtain.” Nat rolled her eyes.  
  
“No, I didn’t mean--” Steve began. He’d turned a little pink.  
  
“I’m going to try to try on the other one. Steve, stay here, I’ll be right back,” Darcy said. As she went back into Jane’s apartment, she heard him make the trapped puppy noise again.  
  
“Nice is good--” he was saying. Nat said something that sounded like a Russian curse.

 

 

When she came back, Jane was sitting on the couch, looking between Steve and Nat with the kind of rapt attention she usually reserved for Science! Benders.

“What about this one?” Darcy asked. “It’s my favorite.” It was a raspberry wrap dress with a ruffled neckline and little ruffles for sleeves.

 

“They both look great, Darcy,” Steve said firmly, using his Captain America voice. He took a deep breath. “I might like that red one best though,” he said in a softer tone. “Where are you all going tonight?”  
  
“Oh, no, this is my Future Third Date Dress, Steve.” She swished her hips. “I’m trying to give Brock Rumlow a run for his money. You probably don’t know about third dates, though,” she said. “They didn’t have that rule in your day.”  
  
“I know about third dates. I’m not totally ignorant. I wish everyone would stop treating me like a child,” Steve said, sounding irritated all of a sudden. “It’s a nice dress, Darcy, but aren’t you rushing things a little? You barely know him--” Steve scolded. He was looking all ‘Captain America is Concerned and Disappointed’ again.  
  
“Bubble Wrap, Steve!” Darcy said. “New topic.”

“All right,” he sighed. “You look very pretty, Darcy. I don’t know what else to say.” He looked anxious and a little sad. 

“Why don’t we order some food, milaya?” Nat suggested. Jane nodded.  
  
“Chinese?” Jane said, looking between the other three curiously. “Thor-sized quantities?”

“Yes, I’m starving,” Darcy said. “Order me some shrimp fried rice and those wontons I love, Jane. I’m going to change into some yoga pants. Steve, stay and eat with us, since we’ve tortured you like this.”  
  
“You haven’t tortured me, I’m having a nice time,” Steve said, smiling genuinely and shrugging his massive arms a little. It was very cute. He looked about ten years younger when he made that bashful face. Like a little boy, if little boys had arms as wide as your head.

  
“Yeah, right,” Darcy said. “You’re ridiculously polite. You get extra wontons, just for that.”

 

“Darcy rewards good behavior with food,” Jane said mockingly.

 

“She says that like she’s not the person who benefits from that rule on the most!” Darcy called, as she retreated back into Jane’s apartment. She was half out of her dress when she leaned around the door again. “Hey, Steve, have you ever seen _The Godfather_?” she said.

 

At the sight of her bra, he turned bright red and stammered something incomprehensible. Jane giggled.

 

***

 

Somehow, Darcy and Steve ended up eating shrimp fried rice alone. Nat disappeared shortly after the last wonton and then Thor staged a Viking-style raid and snagged Jane and several cartons of Chinese food.

  
“Ooooh, I think we’re alone now,” Darcy said, swaying her shoulders in her chair.

 

“Yeah?” Steve said, turning a little pink again. Darcy thought he wasn’t over seeing her bra yet. She wanted to ask him if he still called them ‘ladies’ unmentionables,’ but she was afraid he’d stop making words again. It was kind of sweet, really.

 

“It’s from a song,” she said, grinning.

 

“I loved those songs you sent me,” he said softly. “All of them.”

 

“Yeah? Thanks.” She smiled at him and he beamed back at her. It was like someone had turned on a light.

“You’re very good at it,” Steve said sincerely.  
  
“It’s no big deal. I just like sharing new stuff with people,” Darcy said. “My sister jokes I should find a job where I help make the software that recommends books and movies and stuff. Put my pointless hobby to good use or something.”

 

“I don’t think it’s pointless,” Steve said in a quiet voice. He looked down at his plate. “I could have really used your help when I got out of the ice,” he said, half to himself.

 

“Oh, Steve,” Darcy said sadly. “I’m so sorry.” He nodded wordlessly. “Will you do something for me?” she asked.  
  
“Anything,” he said, giving her a shy little smile.

 

“Tell me what movie theaters looked like back then? Did those neon signs look as pretty as they do in old photographs?” she asked. “What was it like?”

 

“Oh, yeah. They really did. It was wonderful. You could go for a double feature and stay all afternoon. It was the first place I ever went that had air conditioning,” he said. “That was a treat. Me and Bucky, we went to the movies as much as we could afford to. Back then, it was the closest thing to real magic in my world. That feeling when the reel started up,” he said. “Digital’s not the same.”  
  
“The 20th Century Fox Fanfare was your favorite song, Captain?” she said, smiling.

“You know, I think it was,” Steve said. “No sound like it in the world.”  
  
Steve told her about all the movies that he and Bucky had seen together. She’d never heard him talk so much or smile so frequently.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rumlow's Paul Newman impression is drawn from this scene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7tK-k8UURYk
> 
>  
> 
> Darling reader, her name was Apollonia.


	14. Sweet Like Cinnamon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is going on here?
> 
> A Big Mood, that's what.
> 
> *I own nothing. Nothing.

After they’d finished their Chinese, Steve was as relaxed as Darcy had ever seen him. Sober, at least. He asked her if she felt like watching a movie with him. “As long as it’s not too late?” he asked tentatively, as they sat on the couch.  
  
“Of course, I will, you adorable puppy-man,” Darcy said. His expression when he’d asked was so cute. Oddly familiar, but cute.  
  
“Puppy man?” Steve asked, grinning for a brief moment.  
  
“Uh-huh, you’re making that face Thor does when he wants some cookie dough--or has already eaten all the cookie dough and needs to beg forgiveness. Like a golden retriever puppy with too-big feet. Did he teach you?” she asked.

“You weren’t supposed to find out,” Steve joked, “golly, how will I use it to my advantage now?”

  
“You’ll have to use those good looks of yours when I’m around instead, I guess?” Darcy said, inordinately pleased that Steve had made a joke around her. Steve never joked around her. She didn’t know how much she could kid him about his normal seriousness. She didn’t want him to get scared off.

“My--what do you science ladies call them?--Biceps of Truth?” he said, raising an eyebrow and blushing a little. “Thor told me about that, too.”

“You weren’t supposed to know about that. And, excuse me, the right one is Justice, the left one is Freedom,” Darcy said. “They’re individual arms, they have their own names. Your source needs to get their facts straight.”  
  
“Gee, Darcy, I wish I’d talked to you before I got those tattoos,” he said dryly. “I’ll have to talk to the man about getting them fixed.”

“Steven Rogers, you have been spending all your time with Thor, haven’t you?” she asked. “What has he done to my all-business Captain America? Has he corrupted a national icon?”

“I thought you were the one corrupting me, throwing yourself at me in the lab?” Steve said, and then looked shocked at his own audacity. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Darcy laughed and smacked him with a couch pillow. “Just for that, I’m picking the movie.”  
  
“All right,” Steve said, “what we watching?”

“I’m making you watch a movie about Australian ballroom dancers,” she said. “I love Baz Luhrmann’s movies.”  
  
“Seems fair,” he said. “You want popcorn?” When she said yes, he helped her make some from scratch. She only had to invoke Bubble Wrap Protocol once, when he insisted he do something so she wouldn’t get burned by popcorn steam.

  
  
“I cannot believe Thor is teaching you his sneaky ways. It’s a scandal. I’m calling for Congressional hearings. The public needs to know. Captain America Corrupted By Aliens, news at 11,” Darcy said, as the movie started.  
  
“Imagine those news crawlers. ‘Terror from Asgard,’ probably,” he said. He chuckled, moving the popcorn bowl closer to her and putting his arm over the back of the couch.

 

To her surprise, Steve watched the movie closely and laughed at all the right moments. She hadn’t known if it would translate for him. Then he shocked her by declaring that he thought the hero hadn’t treated the heroine right.  
  
“Scott took Fran for granted for all that time they were practicing together--treated her practically like dirt--and then she gets a little makeover and he finally notices her?” he said, clearly offended. “She was a nice person the whole time!”  
  
“He picked her as a dance partner over Tina Sparkle, didn’t he?” Darcy insisted.  
  
“Tina Sparkle,” Steve said scornfully. “Fran was worth ten Tina Sparkles.” That gave Darcy the church giggles. “What?” Steve said.  
  
“Ch-church giggles,” Darcy spit out, leaning against him, shaking with laughter.

Steve rolled his eyes. “That again?” She missed his pleased look.

“It’s not every day you hear Captain America say ‘Tina Sparkle,’ Steve,” Darcy said, her face still muffled against his shoulder. “But your loyalty to Fran is admirable.”  
  
“Damn straight. Fran had moxie,” he said. “She wasn’t just some flash girl like Tina Sparkle and that other one Scott’s mother liked.”

 

***

 

  
She and Steve spent all of Sunday together, too. She met him downstairs in the garage in the morning, expecting to see a car, and found him leaning against a motorcycle instead. It was weirdly like stepping into a 1950s movie. He must have misinterpreted her expression because he immediately looked doubtful.

“I thought we could take my bike and have all the art stuff sent back here. Jarvis made arrangements. If you don’t mind?” he asked.

“Oh, no, I don’t mind, I was just wondering when my life became a James Dean movie,” Darcy said.  
  
“You sayin’ I look like James Dean?” Steve asked shyly, looking at his shoes.  
  
“Steve, you’re wearing a blue version of his _Rebel Without A Cause_ jacket, don’t try to sneak that Thor face past me,” Darcy said. “You know what you did.”

“I can watch movies, too, doll,” he said, just loud enough for her to hear.  
  
“What terrible corruption hath Thor wrought when he taught you to sass,” she said. “Poor America.” He snorted.  
  
But she let him fuss over her helmet and then held him tightly--as instructed--on their way to the store. She had to suppress the urge to pinch herself, but it wasn’t the worst way to commute. She would not, however, think about the mental image of Captain America in Dean’s tortoiseshell glasses. She might fall off the bike.  
  
  
They had entirely too much fun buying art supplies. It was funny to watch Steve debate exactly which brushes and paints he wanted with the intensity of a kid building a Christmas list. With a pang, Darcy realized that this probably was as close as he ever got to that experience. No such thing as a Christmas list for a poor, chronically sick kid from Brooklyn during the Depression. It made her heart ache. And now he had nobody left from before to spend Christmas with, even if he could afford to buy out the entire store.  
  
“What about gesso? I’ve never used that,” Steve was saying when she impulsively reached over and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Darcy?” he said, freezing. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“Sorry, Steve,” she said, sighing and rubbing his back. “Slight overflow of feelings happening. I might need to wrap you in bubble wrap this time.”  
  
“I wouldn’t mind,” he said softly. “Nice to be taken care of.” He wrapped his free arm around her waist and they stood quietly in aisle 12 for a little bit, until Darcy got her feelings under control.  
  
“Oh, damn, this is awkward. I’m sorry. Just pretend you don’t see me,” she said when she pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. She shook her head. She couldn’t tell him why, of course, because that might make him sad. Worse, it could poison his new paintbrushes with her bad emotional jujubees. He might think about her crying about his life whenever he looked at them.

“Girl stuff, Steve. You looked so hot with that ultramarine blue in your hand that my biological clock exploded and I wanted to cry because I can’t have your babies,” she said.

“Who says you can’t have my babies?” he asked with near-perfect sincerity. His expression was almost believable in its puppy-like tenderness.

“Damn Thor to hell,” Darcy said. “I’m kicking him in the shins later.”  
  
“Darce, I always wanted a big family. Five or six kids. What do you say?” he called after her as she took refuge in the glitter aisle.

 

***

  
After they were done shopping, Steve asked if she felt like going for a drive. “How could somebody say no to your puppy face and your James Dean jacket?” she said.  
  
“Is that a yes?” he asked. She nodded. He smiled then. “We’ll get out of the city and take the Seven Lakes Drive. It’s part of two state parks, about 30 miles out, and I’ve heard it’s pretty this time of year. Wanted to see it for myself.”

 

It _was_ pretty. The road followed the lakes or snaked through wooded preserves. The leaves hadn’t changed yet, but that was almost better. She’d always loved the dapple of sunlight through a canopy of green trees. It reminded her of long drives she’d taken in Virginia, when she first moved to Culver. She held onto Steve like he was an anchor and tucked her helmeted head against his warm shoulder.

“I don’t want to go back,” she whispered, more to herself than anything else. She didn’t realize Steve had heard her until he chuckled.  
  
“Makes two of us,” he said.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Lana del Rey's song "Radio." Because Steve. Total Steve song.
> 
>  
> 
> The 7 Lakes Drive is a real thing: https://eatsleepride.com/c/100044/ride_along_seven_lakes_drive_in_harriman_state_park_new_york


	15. See How I've Been Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve asks, 'road trip?'
> 
>  
> 
> *I own nothing. Nothing.

They stopped at a diner for some lunch and Steve demolished an astounding number of burgers. She was toying with her chocolate milkshake when he spoke.  
  
“Darce, what if we don’t go back tonight?” he asked shyly. He paused, pushing his extra fries her way. “We could find a place to stay and go back tomorrow? Or Tuesday, if there’s no emergencies? SHIELD isn’t expecting me back in DC yet.” He looked up at her. He really did like being not-Captain America for a little while, she thought.  
  
“I think I could trust Thor to feed Jane and Bruce for a few days, provided Tony doesn’t blow them up. We’d need to find me a toothbrush, though,” Darcy said.  
  
“I think I can handle that,” Steve said, beaming at her. “There are some great riding spots farther away from the city, if you’re up for it.”  
  
“God, Steve that sounds so much better than my usual Monday of wrangling Jane’s data under fluorescent lights. Could you just kidnap me permanently?” Darcy said. “Also, I’m taking all your extra fries.”  

Steve laughed and ducked his head. She’d never seen him look so pleased.

 

***

   
  
**World’s Okayest Assistant** : Jane, can I run away with Captain America for a day or two? He promises to return me.  
  
**Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard** : Okay, fine. But Thor will find you if you don’t come back to me soon.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Also, I’m afraid of what Tony will do without you to counterbalance him, honestly.  
  
**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Get Clint to help you. Leave a note and a baked good in the vent. The code is ‘lemon trees don't make a sound.’  
  
**Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Where's that from?  
  
**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Set him up with Lucinda. My little vent baby has secret layers, your majesty.  
  
**Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Huh **.** _Car Wheels on a Gravel Road_?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Nope. Guess again.  
  
**Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Hint?  
  
**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Never.  
  
**Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Pretty please? ((sad emoji))

 

***

 

  
He found a little lakeside hotel and checked them into adjoining cabins. It looked a little like something out of _Dirty Dancing._ Darcy suddenly suspected Nat’s involvement--she’d convinced Nat to Swayze-lift her in training once, so Clint could take a photo--and then Nat had insisted they watch the movie together. If anyone could find a hotel like that on short notice, it would be Nat.  
  
Darcy took a bath while Steve went off to find toothbrushes. She was still in the tub when he came back and knocked softly at her bathroom door. “Darce, I’m leaving some stuff on your bed. Nat said these should be your size, but if they’re not, it’s my fault, not hers,” he said. “I’m going outside to sketch.” Ah ha. Nat _was_ involved.  
  
“Thanks, Steve,” she said. She heard his footsteps retreat. A few minutes later, he knocked a second time.

“I brought you coffee, too,” he said.

“Steve, new plan: I’m kidnapping you,” she called out. He laughed and left again.  
  
He’d brought her a toothbrush, contact lens solution, a pack of men’s white shirts big enough to sleep in, and a few of those too-expensive beach dresses that every drugstore stocked in the summer. Nat had the right size, though. She put on the blue one. When she got to the bottom of the stack and discovered that Steve’s nerve had extended to Fruit of the Loom, she squealed with laughter. She would have paid money to see _Captain America_ buy a girl some drawers.

 

She found him outside in one of the chairs facing the lake, sketching on a pad. “You’re holding out on me, soldier. I thought you sent all the art supplies back to Tony’s?” she said.

“I might have stashed some pencils and paper in my bike bag. It’s a nice thing to have when you’re traveling,” he said. “And that watercolor pen set, too.” He smiled. “I can’t believe they make them as pens now. That’s swell. Coulda used that back in the day when I was touring.”

“Shit, Steve. We should have gotten you some pastels. Have you ever used pastels?” she asked.

“No, couldn’t afford them,” he said. “You think I’d like them?”

“Probably. I was just thinking about how cool it would be to have a pastel of Coney Island in the 1930s or something,” she said. “From someone who’d actually seen it.”

“Really?” he asked. He was looking at her intently.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been to Europe once--my family did one of those group tours after my sister graduated from high school, it was her present to go to France--so, we get there and I discover I’m like, allergic to something in old buildings, which is--” she said.  
  
“All of France?” Steve said, laughing.  
  
“Uh-huh. My memories are kind of hazy from the not-breathing well and the borrowed antihistamines and the weird touring schedule, but one thing I remember is the Degas pastels in the Musếe d’Orsay. The ones he did of the ballet dancers? God, Steve, you’d love it there. In person, they’re so much more stunning. They lit them so they _glowed_ . It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen,” she said.

“I bet,” he said. Darcy drank her coffee and watched him sketch out the far edge of the lake. She had a book in her bag, but it was more fun to track the changes in Steve’s expression as he flipped between the page and the view in front of him.

He looked up at her. “No music?” he asked.

“Do you want to listen to some?” she asked. “I could play something on my phone speakers?”

 

He requested something vintage, so she played him Billie Holiday and they sat in pleasant silence until it got too dark to sketch.

 

***

 

 **Agent Gelato** : Where are you, Darcy Lewis? I came by to take you to dinner today and Foster said you were out of town.  
  
**Agent Gelato** : She refused to tell me where you went.  
  
**World’s Okayest Assistant** : That’s my girl.

 **Agent Gelato** : Don’t make me wait on that third date.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** I’m taking it slow and easy, sweetheart.

 **Agent Gelato:** Goddamnit, Lewis.

 

(ten minutes later)  
  
**Agent Gelato** : Why is some dude telling me I’ve reached the voicemail of his Lightening Sister?  
  
**Agent Gelato** : I miss your voice.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Chapter title from one of Clint's favorite Lucinda Williams songs, "Fruits of My Labor."


	16. Kiss Me Hard Before You Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sass. So much sass.
> 
> *I own nothing.

The thing about road tripping with Steve Rogers was that Darcy was _almost_ capable of forgetting who he was and, you know, what he looked like. From the back of a bike, she could pretend he was a warm, 100% non-sexual hunk of granite. It helped that he didn’t make a big deal of her clinging to him or make dirty jokes like most men would have. She’d gotten over her butterflies about that while they were still threading through New York City traffic. It had been a near-death experience thing. His Science!-measurable hotness sort of faded away when she was just hanging around her buddy Steve, the nice artist from Brooklyn, and talking about landscapes, too.

But then, something would always happen that made her heart race. It usually involved Steve looking directly at her, for some reason. The focused attention of tall, hot people had always unnerved her. She remembered how weird it was when Fandral or Sif hit on her. This weird self-consciousness that sometimes came and went around Steve was no different from that, right?   


On their first morning, he woke her up with more coffee and some of those little powdered donuts from a gas station. They looked ridiculously tiny and adorable in his hands.

“I thought we could get an early start. Feel like eating outside?” he asked. “I could carry these down to the lake for you?” It was so early, there was still a mist over the water. He’d remembered how she liked her coffee.

“Uh, yeah, that’d be great, Steve. Just let me brush my teeth, okay?” she said, suddenly aware that, hey, she’d slept in just a t-shirt and that underwear he’d picked out. Her hair probably was a mess, too. She pulled at the edge of her t-shirt as he just stood there and smiled at her. Like a weirdo. An exceptionally hot weirdo who could probably see her cellulite now or--oh God--the color of her nipples through her shirt. It was thin and _white._ She was trying not cringe and he was just standing there, with that big innocent smile, not moving and shit. And it wasn’t like she could move him.

 

“All right,” he said finally, tapping her on the nose. “Hurry up now. Don’t keep me waiting.” He was in a ridiculously cheerful mood for the godawful hour. He turned and stepped down to the chairs and little table facing the lake, setting down breakfast. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding in and started to shut the door.

Hearing her, Steve stopped and turned back. “What’s wrong, Darce?” he asked.

“ _Steve,_ I’m practically in my underwear,” Darcy hissed, trying to stand behind the half-shut door. He grinned.

“That’s all? I thought something was wrong. Don’t tell me you’re getting shy on me now,” he said. “I didn’t think you minded me seeing you in your underwear.”

“Did you just sass me, Captain Rogers?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“Come down here in your underwear and find out, Miss Lewis,” he said boyishly, clearly sassing her now. He was only blushing a fraction of the way he used to blush, too. Damn Thor. She refused to be rattled, even if he was actually holding a hand out her now, like he was daring her to do it.

“I’m getting dressed,” she said, putting a hand on her hip. It might distract him from the pink splotches rapidly appearing around her neck.

He looked at her for a fraction of a second, grinning, and she could see the wheels turning in his mind. She couldn’t stop him, but all of a sudden she had a feeling--that she knew what he was going to say before he said it. She'd seen that face. Five year olds made it before they dropped water balloons.

“Gee, that’s a shame. And here I was going to get undressed, too. I wouldn’t want a lady to be uncomfortable,” he said. Then he actually started pulling his shirt off.  
  
She shut the door. Firmly. But not before she got an eyeful of Steve’s perfect Adonis torso. “Operator, get me Jesus on the line,” she whispered to herself. From outside, she heard Steve laugh. She needed to get some clothes on.   


 

***

 

  
**World’s Okayest Assistant:** HALP ((flames on the side of my face gif))   
****

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Janey, how do I tell if CAPTAIN AMERICA is actually flirting with me or just joking? Does he even flirt? Can he? Is there a law?   
****

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Also, I’m very mad at Thor.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** THOR TAUGHT HIM PUPPY FACE AND SECRET SASS.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** HE HAS BEEN ALTERNATELY DOING PUPPY FACE AND SECRET SASS AT ME, JANE. IT IS VERY CONFUSING.

 

 

***  


 

Steve had his shirt back on when she came out. She was wearing two of her own--she layered one of the t-shirts underneath her sundress like it was 1994--just to be safe.

“Don’t you sass me anymore before I’ve had coffee, Steve Rogers,” she said preemptively. He grinned back.

“Drink your coffee, then. We have places to go,” he said. “You feel like seeing some bridges today? There’s a bunch of bridges over the river that are supposed to be real nice. Better bring your coat, though.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, eyes on her coffee. It was very difficult not to watch him lick powdered sugar off his fingers.

 

Almost as difficult: hanging onto him on the back of the bike now that her palms tended to get a little sweaty. Thankfully, she could blame that on her anxiety about the height of the Bear Mountain Bridge. Either the drop or the feeling of Steve’s abs was going to kill her. When she tried to put some space between them, Steve tended to fuss about passenger safety. The mountains were beautiful, though.

 

They stopped at an overlook with a breathtaking view. “It’s beautiful. I’m a little afraid of heights, though,” Darcy said. She hesitated to walk up to the edge, even though there was a stone wall. “Falling is one of my fears,” she said. “I know it’s silly, since there’s a wall, but I’ve always been afraid….”   
  
“It’s not silly,” Steve said, a strange look flickering across his face. “I’ve got you,” he said, lacing his arm through hers and gripping her hand tightly. “I won’t let you go, Darcy.” He gave her a little smile.

“Thanks, Steve. Some friends from Culver and I went to the mountains once and they had this famous swinging footbridge, you know?” she said. He nodded. “I got halfway across and freaked out. I thought someone was actually jumping on the bridge to mess with me. It was just the wind. They laughed at me for weeks,” she said.

“Sounds like a bunch of assholes to me,” Steve said, sounding mulish.  
  
“Language, Captain,” Darcy said. “You’re awfully sassy today.” He grinned.   
  
“Oh, Darce,” Steve said suddenly. He groaned. “You didn’t tell me. I took you over that bridge! We have to go back that way. I’m so sorry.”   
  
He kept apologizing until she told him to be quiet and let her enjoy the view a little. She found the way he ran his thumb over the back of her hand oddly soothing.   
  


 

  
***

 

They made it back to the town nearest their hotel and Steve wanted to take her to dinner. Darcy guessed Steve was feeling guilty over the bridge stuff, since the restaurant he picked was a little fancier than all the places they’d been before. Most of the patrons were older couples who looked like tourists.

“Do you mind if I go to the bathroom?” she asked him, when they walked into the wood paneled dining room . “I think I need to unsnarl my hair a little and pee before I can be this respectable,” she said. Steve laughed.  

“Okay. You want a Diet Coke?” he asked. It was what she always ordered.

“That sounds wonderful,” she said. “I’m going to go make sure I don’t have bugs in my teeth.”

“I’ll get you one,” he said, smiling. He let go of her hand then; he’d been holding it since they parked.

  


Steve was attractive in the truest sense of the word: even people who didn’t recognize him as _that_ Captain Rogers would talk to him. Darcy had decided it wasn’t just his good looks, since there were a lot of good-looking people in the world, it was his manner of engaging with others. Steve was genuinely polite and sociable in an old-fashioned way that encouraged conversation. She’d seen something similar in older people in Virginia, who would stop and talk to people in restaurants about their kids or fishing or whatever, as if they had no more important place to be in the world. So, it was no surprise to find that--she was walking around the corner back into the dining room--there was an older couple standing by their table talking to Steve.   
  
“We were up at Bear Mountain today,” Steve was saying to them, “but my girl is a little afraid of heights--”

“Oh, aren’t you a gorgeous little thing,” one of the men said to Darcy when he spotted her. For a second, she thought he must be joking, but then he turned to his husband and said, “Bill, don’t you think she looks like a young Ava Gardner?”

Darcy blushed. “That’s really nice of you to say, especially considering the number of bugs I just found in my hair. I love her movies.” In her peripheral vision, she could see Steve smiling and nodding.  


They got into a long discussion of the merits of _Mogambo_ versus _The Barefoot Contessa_ that evolved into Steve inviting Jim and Bill to eat with them. It was a really great evening. Darcy didn’t feel self-conscious about her drugstore dress around them at all.

  
***

  


**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Where are you? It’s been **hours.** I could be dead by now. Dead from the sass. There was SHIRTLESS sass, Jane.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Sorry. Thor and I were busy. Did *you* get busy? With Steve?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Excuse me, I’m very busy. I’ve moved on to ignoring you right now. I’m not even going to tell you about Steve taking his shirt off. Sort of.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **I’m pretty happy with that if it means you’re on a date with Steve. #TeamCap

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Not getting busy with Steve.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: ….**yet.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Shut up. I heard you ran off my Italian.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **He was casing my duct tape, I know it.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Jane, don’t scare him away yet. He’s been texting me about bringing us more gelato.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **I’ll accept that as a peace offering.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Steve did call me ‘his girl’ once tonight. But he was chatting with this really nice couple who thought I look like Ava Gardner, so maybe it’s nothing?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **I’m pretty sure that means you and Steve are engaged now.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Why is everyone sassing me today?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **((karma gif))

  


***  
  


**Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **He called her ‘his girl’ today.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Awesome. Who won the pool on old man endearments?

 **Red-Headed Woman** : I did.

 **Agent Buff Arms** : No fair, Nat, you’re the one booking the hotel and coaching him. You’re ineligible for competition.

 **Red-Headed Woman:** There is nothing for which I am ineligible.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Lana del Rey's Summertime Sadness. For some reason, I listen to Lana and get Steve feels. I dunno why. It's a mystery.
> 
> Bear Mountain Bridge and the overlooks are real things: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U_z_WFNRcn8


	17. Nothing But My Aching Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor and Tony are good bros. Jane will cut somebody for you.

Tuesday was warm and sunny. When Darcy woke up, Steve’s motorcycle was gone. He’d left her a note: _Getting you some food and caffeine. Wouldn’t want to sass you without the proper equipment. -Steve_

She turned bright red on the spot and thanked God he wasn’t there to see it. Still, she took a photo of the note and sent it to Jane:  
  
**World’s Okayest Assistant:** He’s gonna kill me, Jane. I’m actually sweating. From. A. Note.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Should I give you the talk now?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **because the talk your mama gave you probably didn’t cover birth control for superheroes, right?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** I’m simultaneously turned on and terrified right now. Jane. I haven’t felt this way since a guy put his hand down my shirt during a horror movie in 8th grade.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **What horror movie? You hate horror movies.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Yeah, I’ve blocked it out, Jane. For reasons. Including the way Trevor twisted my left nipple. It bruised.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **FINALLY, THE SOURCE OF YOUR HORROR-PHOBIA.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Focus on the current problem, please. How do I handle this?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **How do you want to handle it?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:**......

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Can I tell Thor about the horror movie thing, though?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** No.  
**World’s Okayest Assistant:** I do not want Thor to have more nipple stories to tell about me in Asgard, okay? HE HAS PLENTY.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** I think I’m a little bit in love with Steve?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** I cried in the craft store, Jane.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** If he looked at me like he looks at a bottle of yellow ochre, my heart might actually burst.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: ** ???????  
**World’s Okayest Assistant:** The man _glowed,_ Jane. Like a puppy and an angel had a hunky human baby and I went to the craft store with it.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** I need to break it off with Brock?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **(((yay emoji)))

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Ghost him. I didn’t like the way he looked when he found out you were out of town.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Mad?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **No, more like freaked out? Like he wanted to put out an APB, then he sort of….pulled it back in when Nat talked to him?  
**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Nat was there?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Nat came by and said she knew where you were and that you were okay, but needed a little vacay. He looked...relieved?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Huh. Besides, I don’t ghost. That’s not me.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** I’ll call him when I get back. People deserve honesty, even SHIELD people.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **TELL THAT TO MY LUCKY DUCT TAPE

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Focus, Janey. STEVE. Steve!

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** You know me. I would throw myself at any other dude this hot like that Iraqi guy threw his shoes at Dubya.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Duh.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** But he’s old-school, so should I let him take the lead? Will he get weirded out if I’m too forward or whatever it is?  Oh shit, I think I hear his bike.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard:** Thor says to tell you Steve is not actually a virgin, no matter what Tony says.  
  
  
Darcy tried to make her face do normal human expressions when Steve came strolling over with coffee and muffins. She would not grin like an idiot.

“You see my note?” Steve asked. “Didn’t want you to worry,” he said, smiling in a frankly sexy way that suggested she _was_ grinning like an idiot. She blamed that jacket. He was wearing it again.

“I wasn’t worried,” she said, trying to sound arch and breezy. “I knew I could find someone to get me to the nearest coffee shop if you disappeared, what with my Ava Gardner looks and all. Just go stand by the road and put on a little show.”

Instead of blushing or acting embarrassed, like she’d assumed he would, Steve leaned in slightly, his eyes focused. “I better give you this then, before you run off with somebody,” he said. “Can’t let my girl get too thirsty.”

Her panties definitely melted a little.

 

***

 

After breakfast, Steve asked if they could stay closer to the cabins instead of going for a drive again.

“Sounds perfect to me,” Darcy said. She was absurdly grateful that he didn’t want to, like, go hiking up a mountain or something. A not-insignificant part of her hoped that meant Steve wanted to make out with her in an Adirondack chair instead. She was on the verge of suggesting it herself when she realized they’d have a very awkward drive back to the city if he turned her down. She shut her mouth abruptly.  
  
“Yeah?” Steve asked, looking perplexed. “You don’t mind just this?” He gestured to the lake and their coffee. “It doesn’t bore you? You’re so...entertaining that I assumed you liked to stay busy,” Steve said.  
  
She made a choking sound at this. “Steve, I’ll have you know I’m 99.8% slug. My primary hobbies involve sofas and Pop Tarts. Being here is wonderful. Also, what do you mean, _entertaining?_ Should I be insulted? I feel like I should be insulted.”  
  
“No, I just mean...I don’t want you to get bored with me,” he said. He looked at her adorably. Dear God, Darcy thought, I’m in danger of falling for Steve. Something that was a combination of lust and melting tenderness must’ve shown in her expression, because Steve gave her a soft, shy look. “Darce, can I ask you something?” he said.

“Of course, Cap,” she said. This is the moment, she thought. Then: _Oh shit shit shit shit._ Had she put on deodorant? Super soldiers could probably really smell sweat, right? She was sweating like a whore in church. She could feel the sweat rolling down her belly.

“Can I--I mean, will you pose for me?” Steve asked. “Today?”

“You mean, like, naked?” Darcy said. It was the first thing that popped into her mind.  She covered her hand with her mouth. Damn Leo and Kate.

“No,” Steve said, quickly. Now he blushed. Really blushed. If Tony were here, he’d say that Steve had definitely thought about being Leo to her Kate. She’d ruined it now.

“Shit, Steve, I didn’t mean to be, you know, coarse or vulgar or whatever they called it back in the day,” she said apologetically. “Sorry to embarrass you. I’m such a loose woman.”

He threw his head back and actually roared with laughter. “Ma’am, I’ll have you know I was a commando,” he teased. “I’m not scared of a little vulgarity among friends. I just didn’t want you to think, I, well--”

It dawned on her that Steve had blushed because he was worried _she’d_ be the one objecting to the naked bit. There was a sudden gleam in his eye that suggested he didn’t object at all. It was tiny, but it was definitely there. She would have never caught it, had they not spent so much time together.  
  
“That you’d talk a girl into getting naked under the guise of artistic license when you’re interests were in a, let’s say, different direction?” Darcy said. He grinned and nodded. He’d tilted his chin down and was looking up at her. The expression on his face made Darcy feel brave. Possibly stupid.

“Steve?” she asked.

“Yeah?”

“This sketching me thing?”  
“Uh-huh.”

“I’d like that.”

“Yeah? You sure?”  
  
“I can take direction pretty well, too.”

“Take direction, huh?” His eyebrows had gone up.

“Doesn’t the artist usually tell the model what he wants her to do?”

  
She was moderately disappointed when it turned out he actually wanted to sketch her. In clothes. Worse, she had to be still. Thankfully, he asked her to pose on a comfortable blanket, with her hair pooled around her head. She thought her pose might look oddly like one of those old Hollywood portraits, if she could actually see it. Steve fussed if she moved too much and wouldn’t let her see the sketch yet.

They were losing light when Steve finally called it quits and put away his art supplies. “I’m sorry,” he said, as if he’d finally come back to Earth, “I just, well, I want to get this right.”  
She sat up and shook out her hair. “That’s cool. It’s nice seeing you so engaged with something that’s totally for you.”  
  
“For me?” he said, looking at her with a confused expression.

“As opposed to all the world-saving business,” Darcy said.

“Oh,” he said and smiled. “Thanks. You’ll get sick of it eventually, though.” He said it sweetly, like he expected her to model for him again. When he helped her up, she paused in front of him, silently willing him to make a move. _Kiss me,_ she thought, looking up at his face. _Please._  
  
“Steve,” she said, sighing.

“Darcy,” he replied.

He reached for her with both hands, as if he was going to hold her face still. She leaned towards him slightly.

 

Then his emergency phone rang. “Damn,” he said, pulling his hands back and running one roughly through his hair. “I gotta take this. Stay right here.”

He went into his cabin and shut the door. He was all-business when he came back, telling her that she could stay until tomorrow, or Happy would come and pick her up tonight. Her choice. He’d already packed his extraneous things and they could go back to New York with her. Whatever romance she’d felt before was totally gone now.

  
“Thanks for being a good friend, Darce,” he said. He gave her a distant, too-brief hug with one arm and basically sprinted to his bike, go-bag in hand.

She watched him ride away sadly.

 

*****  
  
**

****  
****  
**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Jane, it was so close! I think he was reaching for me and everything. So. Close. This.Close. I think he was gonna kiss me. ****  
**  
** **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: ** Damn. I hate SHIELD. Those bastards stole your Captain America kiss _and_ my stuff.

 

***

While she waited for Happy, she decided to get the unpleasant thing on her to-do list over with.

He answered on the first ring. “Sweetheart, I been missing you,” he said. “You having a good break?” She could hear noises behind him.

“Yeah, sorry about that, Brock, I just needed to--” she began, but he cut her off.

“No, it’s okay. Don’t apologize. I want you to be able to take time for yourself when you need time, sweetheart. I know I won’t be able to be in touch all the time. I don’t want to be that guy on missions who doesn’t trust his wife,” he said.

“Oh,” she said, thrown for a loop at the word _wife._

“Damn, too soon?” he asked. She could almost hear his grin. “Well, Clara Varner, too bad. What is it Newman says to her? ‘Haven’t you heard, we’re gonna be married, you and me’?” There was someone yelling behind him.  
  
“Brock--” she said. The engines must be turning on wherever he was.

  
“Hold on, we’re gearing up, it’s loud, baby,” he said. The roar of the engine subsided and she could hear him talking to someone else. “We gotta find Rogers first, all right? Rollins, has anyone checked with Cap’s girlfriend? I dunno. Kathryn? Kate? I’m not his damn mother, guys.  Ask Garcia, he’ll know her name. Sorry, sweetheart, you were saying?”

“Steve has a girlfriend?” she found herself asking incredulously.

“He hasn’t told anybody in New York? Yeah, it’s some skinny blonde nurse who lives in his building. Not my type at all,” he said wryly. “Zero personality, I hear. He’s probably keeping it quiet for the same reason I freaked out on Sunday. This is all new to me and it’s making me understand why he’s always so uptight.”

“What?” she asked softly.  
  
“Having someone I care about? Enough to worry that someone kidnapped you because you’re not in the office?” he said softly, chuckling. “I was stupid. The Widow talked me down. I’ll send Jane a candy bouquet, okay? Text me some things she’d like.”  
  
“Okay,” Darcy said. Her brain was still processing.

“Sweetheart, I gotta go, okay? I’ll call you,” he said. “Yeah, yeah, Rollins, I’m coming, calm your tits--” she heard him say before he ended the call.

 

***

  
There was nothing to do but wait, alone, by the lake as it got dark. It was easy enough to find once she knew who she was looking for. Someone at Stark had helped Steve set up a private Instagram account for his sketches back in the spring. He barely used it, so Darcy hadn’t paid much attention. She found Kate commenting on the sole photo of a smiling Steve on the account. Something about enjoying their coffee date. That had been back in February. There were no photos of Steve on her account, but she used “we” a lot and there were no other men either. Her life in DC looked pretty perfect from the outside. Lots of photos of sunsets and even a photo of what looked like Steve’s motorcycle covered in cherry tree blossoms.

  
**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Steve doesn’t want me.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Sweetie, please, he’s crazy about you.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** I’m serious.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Jane. You can’t tell anyone. Promise?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **What’s wrong?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Darcy, what’s wrong? Call me?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Oh, Jane. Brock was yelling team leader stuff to someone else on the phone.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Okay, yeah?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Looking for Steve

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **And?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Steve has a secret girlfriend in DC. Her name is Kate, she lives in his building. Here’s her Instagram. That’s his bike. [link]

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **That fucker. Shit fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** That’s why he didn’t kiss me.

 

  
  
***  


Happy Hogan was an incredibly lovely man. He kept her distracted all the way back to the city. When she got out of the car, she gave him a genuine hug and he smiled back, pleased. Thor and Jane were waiting for her.  Jane--in her ratty bathrobe with little stars on it--looked absolutely furious. Darcy had never seen Thor look so heartbroken. Jane wrapped her arms around Darcy and squeezed. “We’re gonna kill him,” she said.  
  
“Darcy,” the Asgardian said in a soft voice she’d never heard him use before, “I did not know. I assumed Steven’s affections were sincere.”  
  
“I know,” Darcy said, “you’re a good bro, Thor.” He smiled and then looked sad again. “I’d like to keep this quiet, though,” Darcy said. “I’ve had time to think on the way back. He doesn’t deserve people getting up in his ass”---Jane made a pissed off sound--”when he hasn’t really _done_ anything, other than not tell us he wasn’t single. He obviously doesn’t want people to know about her and he’s probably worried about her safety. Please don’t tell Nat, she’ll be so upset.”  
  
“He definitely led you on,” Jane insisted stubbornly. “He told _us_ he liked you. And Brock! He’s been showing his ass about Brock, trying to chip away at your relationship with him.”  
  
“Janey, are you seriously on TeamGelato now? I thought you hated Brock?” Darcy asked, smiling a little. The ride back with Happy had clarified a few things for Darcy. She was going to deal like a badass grown-up Science! Lady. She wasn’t going to be petty with Steve, but she didn’t owe him anything, either. That was how adults did this, right?

“I didn’t love that he was SHIELD, but now I’ve decided you deserve all the hot Sicilian sex for Steve’s bullshit,” Jane hissed.

“I’d settle for a margarita?” Darcy said. Thor eagerly got up to make them. He liked to be useful in a dating crisis. Otherwise, he tended to cry, too.

“Make them Italian margaritas, Thor,” Jane called stubbornly. “I know Tony has some amaretto around here. Fucking Captain America.”

 

***

  
  
They kept things pretty quiet. Thor could be discreet, really, and Darcy and Jane hashed out a plan over margaritas to tell Nat that Darcy was more interested in Brock. She _was_ very attracted to him. On Friday, he had apology gelato sent to Jane from wherever they were on mission and that went a long way with her favorite astrophysicist. He’d even included a note about his sister wanting to meet Darcy and Jane soon. She needed tasters for the fall flavors.  
  
But that afternoon, Tony stopped Darcy in his lab. “Something wrong, Itty Bitty?” he said in a soft voice. “Cap?”

“Oh, Tony, how’d you figure it out?” she asked.

“Happy said you seemed a little sad. Jane and Thor look pissed all the time,” he said with none of his usual cockiness.

“Well, it turns out there’s somebody else,” Darcy said quietly. “She’s blonde and her Instagram is perfect. It might be reminding me a little of the time I had a crush on this Brian guy in high school. And middle school, too, actually. He was cute and blonde. A preppy kid, you know? Popular.”  
  
Tony nodded. “Prep. Got it,” he said.

“They all wore t-shirts over white sweatshirts, for reasons that remain a mystery to me,” Darcy said, blinking. “And those puffy sleeveless vests?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I was more of a blue nail polish girl. I was in French club and the theater club. Thespians. They used to make cracks about it being called the Lesbians whenever we did PA messages. We never got a play off the ground, but that was okay, because I would have been terrified. I was really shy then.”

“Hard to imagine,” Tony said.

“I got over that in college,” she chuckled, wiping her eyes. “Alcohol helped me realize everyone else was just as terrified as I was.”

“Anything ever happen with Brian?” Tony asked softly.

“Yeah, he kissed me at a party in the woods once. I was on cloud nine. Things were finally _happening_ to me, you know?”

“Yeah,” Tony said.

“Then I overheard him tell one of his jock friends that I was too fat to actually date,” Darcy said. “He only dated cheerleaders.”

Tony hugged her. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry to hit you with all my girl feelings. Cap didn’t do anything, honestly. He just likes somebody else and it’s messing with my head. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention anything to him. Sorry. Again.” Her voice was muffled against Tony’s shoulder. He hadn’t let her go.

“Funny thing, Itty Bitty. You don’t need to apologize. Has no one mentioned how my dad felt about the Capiscle?” Tony asked. “As compared to how he felt about me?” He rubbed her shoulders.

“Why are people so down on us brunettes, Tony? We’re hot people. We like good music. We have excellent taste. We even vote,” she said, crying.

“It’s a damn mystery,” Tony said, still not letting her go.  
  
“I really still want someone to explain the puffy sleeveless vests to me, too. Who has a cold torso and warm arms?” Darcy asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Lana del Rey's "Young & Beautiful."
> 
> *No, Brock STILL doesn't know about Steve; his grandmother always said he had the most extraordinary luck. Kate/Kathryn = Sharon Carter in TWS.


	18. I Been Everywhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Communication breakdowns.
> 
> This is where we get to earn our Mature rating a little bit. It starts at the paragraph beginning, "When they left Thor and Jane...," so if you want to skip that, just head to the next '***' marked section.
> 
> *I own nothing. Nothing!

**Kid from Brooklyn** : Nat, do you think Darcy would like to go to this art exhibit with me? [link]

 **Red-Headed Woman:** You need to call me.

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** What’s going on? Nothing’s wrong with Darcy? Is she okay?

 **Red-Headed Woman:** Darcy is fine. This is not a conversation to have by text.

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** Nat, tell me. You know how I feel about her. Don’t make me wait if it’s bad news.

 **Red-Headed Woman:** Jane told me that she plans to continue seeing Rumlow. She’d like to remain your friend only. I’m sorry, Steve.

 **Red-Headed Woman** : I could set you up with someone at SHIELD?  
****

**Kid from Brooklyn:** Please stop, Nat. Not today.

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** I thought it was going so well?

 **Red-Headed Woman:** Lisa from HR?

 **Red-Headed Woman:** That nurse in your building? Didn’t you go out with her for awhile?

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** We had coffee once. Someone at SHIELD who saw us together turned it into me having an entire secret life.

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** I can’t do this right now, Nat. It hurts too much.

 **Red-Headed Woman:** Steve, you cannot just shut down. You need to live your life.

 

***

 

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Jane, am I a ‘substitute person’? Like Kirsten Dunst talks about in _Elizabethtown_? The person that someone spends time with until they find their actual love interest?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Hell, no. You’re MY permanent person.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Thor says you’re his permanent person, too. Turn the movie off. Come hang out with us. Thor is making you snacks.

 

***

Darcy asked Jarvis to work on some protocols to keep her and Steve from running into one another too much in the Tower again.

“Sir has already relayed those instructions, Miss Lewis,” the AI said. “He instructed me that they be iron-clad. I believe that is his idea of a joke and he wishes to cheer you up.”

“Okay, Jarvis, thank you. Thank Tony for me, too. Also, you have any further suggestions for avoiding the awkward factor? You’re a smart guy,” she said.

“I can delay Captain Rogers by a few minutes if he intends to visit the labs or your apartment via the stairwell?” Jarvis offered. “I am authorized to lock the doors, after all.”

“Thank you, J-man,” she said. “Any other ideas?”  
  
“Perhaps, Miss Lewis, you would enjoy spending more time outside the Tower? I has come to my attention that Mr. Rumlow emailed you about something he referred to as “Date 2.5” approximately one minute ago. He will be in the city tomorrow morning and is offering to take you, Dr. Foster, and HRH Prince Thor to meet his sister this weekend?” Jarvis said.

“That sounds wonderful, Jarvis. Confirm for me? I’ll go ask Thor and Jane if they’d like to go, too,” she said.

“Already done, Miss Lewis. HRH gave a vigorous assent and Dr. Foster appears delighted at the prospect of more gelato,” the AI said. “I will tell Mr. Rumlow to expect three.”

 

When she got back to her apartment, Darcy found a note taped to her closet door.

_I think you should wear one of your new dresses for your next date with Rumlow. I want you to be happy, milaya, no matter who you choose. Perhaps the orchid pink one? You do not need to worry about Steve troubling you anymore. I have handled everything. - NR_

She only cried for a few minutes. Then she got a little mad at Steve.  
_  
_

***

 

  
**Agent Buff Arms:** What the fuck happened, man? I just saw Rumlow and Darcy leaving for a double date with Jane and Thor? Did she and Steve break up?

 **Red-Headed Woman:** I do not think they were ever truly together.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Shit. She made him a mixtape. That’s together together.  
**  
Red-Headed Woman:** It happens. Steve is dealing with it poorly.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Nuh-uh. He did _something_. She was into him.

 **Red-Headed Woman:** I do not think so.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** I go out of town for a few days….

 **Agent Buff Arms:** You talk to Tony? Jarvis is stalling me. Something’s hinky. I found an emergency code note and a brownie in the vents. Nobody will tell me what it’s about. I’mma find out.

 

  
***

 

Brock’s sister, Terri, was incredibly nice. She kept looking at Darcy and smiling.

“I’m afraid Thor is going to eat you out of gelato,” Darcy said, apologetically.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she said, “it’s not everyday we get Asgardian princes. He’s easy on the eyes, too. Your friend and him seem happy,” Terri said.

“Yup. I think she loves him _almost_ as much as she loves your hazelnut,” Darcy said. She watched Brock holding his youngest niece, while he talked to his brother-in-law. The baby was waving her hands at Thor and smiling. “She has some competition, though,” Darcy said. “Jane better watch out.”

Terri laughed. Brock heard his sister laugh and grinned at them from across the room. His whole face lit up. “Listen,” Terri said suddenly, “I know Brock probably seems like the kind of guy who isn’t serious about women. But I haven’t heard him talk this much about someone since he was fifteen.”  
“Really?” Darcy asked. “That’s...good to hear. I don’t usually inspire that kind of reaction in men, honestly.”

“Who are you bullshitting, honey, my brother says you’re fantastic,” Terri said, gesturing at her. “And that adorable space couple over there love you, too. Don’t sell yourself short.”

   
  
Terri’s advice made Darcy think about the conversation she’d had with Tony. It dawned on her that she might have some version of A Thespian Inferiority Complex. Brock thought she was great. He said it to her all the time. He obviously said it to other people, too. Plenty of her friends thought she was pretty damn cool.  
  
Why did it feel weirder to be with someone who was so openly into her than to chase someone unavailable, or at best, tentative? Steve might be the latest hot unavailable guy, but he wasn’t the first (hello, Ian!). Was she trapped in high school in some weird way? Like _Groundhog Day,_ but only in her dating life?

 

Huh.

Had she signed _herself_ up to be a Substitute Person without realizing it?

Also, when she joked about throwing herself ‘like a shoe’ at some hot guy, was that fucked up? It probably was, right? Maybe she and Tony could compare self-sabotage stories...

  
“Hey, sweetheart,” Brock said, sitting down next to her at one of the little cafe tables. “You okay? You’re looking thoughtful.”

“Your sister is really nice, dude. She kinda hit me with a truth bomb of niceness and I don’t know to respond?” Darcy said tentatively.

“Can you translate that a little for me?” he asked, smiling.

“Well, she told me not to sell myself short,” Darcy said. “We had a real Oprah moment. I want to go give a TED talk now. I’m fired up, ready to go.”

“She’s right. My sister is a smart woman,” Brock said, reaching out and holding her hand. His expression was gentle. “If there’s one thing I think, it’s that you don’t know how amazing you are. You undervalue yourself.”

“Uh-huh. She also implied you were very into me. That true, too?” Darcy said teasingly.

“Sweetheart,” he said, leaning over and whispering in her ear, “I’m all in.”

“Oooh,” Darcy hissed. “There are children and ladies present, Agent Gelato.”

 

***

 

When they left Jane and Thor in the lab after gelato, Brock stopped the elevator on her floor. “Where are we going?” she asked. “You know this isn’t our third date yet.”

“Detour,” he said and then pulled her into a little alcove off the main hallway, kissing her. “I want to put my hands all over you,” he whispered. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked.

“You look so good in that dress. Like a dream. You’re my dream, you know that?” he said.

“I’m your dream?” she said.

“Every single one. You taste like strawberries,” he said, sliding his hands over her hips.

“Brock, what about the cameras?” Darcy said softly, leaning into him when he nibbled at her neck. He huffed out a laugh.

“Whole place has camera sight. Even your damn apartment. Except for this one alcove. I found it when I made you dinner. It’s the only blind spot, sweetheart. Come on, get out of character with me?” he asked. He met her gaze. His eyes were practically liquid with lust.

“Okay,” she whispered, biting her lip. “I’ve never done anything like this.”

“I know,” he said, grinning. “I’ll go slow.” He ran a warm, calloused hand between her thighs. Her breath hitched when she felt his fingers at the band of her underwear.

“It’s just us. Only us. No one can see you here but me. You don’t have to be afraid with me, Darcy Lewis. I want you. Let go of your doubt. Let go,” he whispered. “Can you let go for me?”

“Yes.” She closed her eyes and just _felt_.

  
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” she moaned a few moments later, rubbing her face against the muscles of his shoulder. “You--you can’t just take me apart like this,” she whispered. “I’ll be ruined for real life and convicted of public indecency.”

“Oh, I could do this everyday,” he said, chuckling. “I’m holding back. I’m always holding back with you.” He did something with his hand that made her moan and then, suddenly, she heard voices.

“Someone’s coming,” she whispered.

“I know somebody is,” he said in her ear, grinning.

He pressed her against the wall and partly shielded her body with his own, casually leaning his free arm against the wall. He didn’t take the other hand out from under her skirt entirely, resting it on her thigh. From the hallway, it probably looked like they were just kissing. She hoped. She looked over Brock’s raised arm. It was Tony and someone else.

“Mr. Stark,” Brock said cordially. “Cap.”

“Rambo and Lewis,” Tony said.

Steve didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. She looked away until the men’s footsteps retreated into the elevator and she heard the doors close.

“Shit, babe,” he muttered. “We’re blown. I think Cap can hear blood pressure.”

She wanted to laugh at the painful absurdity of it all. Was this real life? Had that actually happened? The one person she wanted to avoid and the one person who could have heard anything?  “You’re right, he heard us,” she said. “Oh shit.”

Brock grinned at her.

“Let the Boy Scout listen, I don’t care,” he said. “I’d fuck you on Cap’s shield in front of the entire USO. Twice. You ready to go again?” A strange part of her thrilled at his words. She felt reckless.

“I think I better get you into my apartment now,” Darcy said. He kissed her forehead.

 

***

 

  
The elevator doors closed with a ping.

“Jarvis, privacy protocols. You wanna talk about that, Capiscle?” Tony asked.

“Nothing to talk about,” Steve said. Tony could hear his jaw grinding. “It’s a free country.”

“No? The Iast time I checked, you were really into Lewis and she was into you. What happened, Steve? Why is she making out with Rambo in my hallway?” Tony asked.

Steve stared straight ahead.

“You’d have to ask the lady that question,” Steve said bitterly. Tony whistled and Steve flinched.

“C’mon, Steve. You can fuck up pretty badly and still not overtake me on an average day. I won’t judge you,” Tony said.

“Who says I did anything?” Steve asked.

“That’s how you’re gonna play it? Okay.”

“I don’t know what I did,” Steve said quietly. “Nat told me she chose him.”

“Steve, Darcy, told me _you_ had someone else. Another girl. She cried on my shoulder about Brian somebody from middle school who would only date cheerleaders.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Tony,” Steve said.

“Cap, dumbass, you’re Brian. She wants you, but she thinks you have a cheerleader on the side,” Tony said.

“There’s no other girl,” Steve insisted stubbornly. “She knows there isn’t one.”

“She thinks there is,” Tony said.

“Nat wouldn’t lie.”

“Maybe Natasha has bad information?” Tony suggested. Steve scoffed.

“Talk to Darcy, Steve,” Tony said softly.

 

***

  
  
  
**Agent Buff Arms:** Code FUCKING Red, Nat. Get to Cap. ASAP.

 **Red-Headed Woman:** Really? What now?

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Lewis was fooling around with Rumlow in a hallway and Cap caught ‘em.

 **Red-Headed Woman:** BRT

  
  
***

 

 

Sometime the next day, her phone buzzed.

 **Master of the Universe** : Lewis, as much I want you to have fun with the Italian Stallion, just because Jarvis can’t see you doesn’t mean he can’t hear you. Also, you’re loud for someone your size.  
****

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Tony, we know what you and Pepper get up to, I won’t be shamed. #sexpositive

 **Master of the Universe:** Save it for your 50 Shades book club.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Ahem. Are you really throwing C Grey shade with that username?

 **Master of the Universe:** It was mine first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title inspiration/mood: Lana del Rey's "Burning Desire."


	19. My One and Only Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turkish poetry, coffeemakers, and Clint

Darcy woke up to the weight of Brock Rumlow’s arm around her waist. Jarvis had pinged her with the Stark equivalent of a muted doorbell sound.

“Delivery notification from sir, Miss Lewis. For you and Mr. Rumlow,” the AI said quietly. It was his discreet voice.

“Thanks, J-man,” Darcy said, trying to wriggle out from under Brock without waking him.

“Where you going, sweetheart?” he said sleepily when she was grabbing her silk robe.

“Tony sent us something,” Darcy said. “I’m going to grab it.”  
  
“I like that, by the way,” he said, rubbing his face and grinning. “Looks good on you.”

“Nat brought it back for me from one of your SHIELD missions. I’ve been saving it for our third date,” Darcy called as she headed for the door.

“Widow gives you all the good weapons. I need to play catch up. You want me to make you breakfast?” Rumlow said.

 

  
When Darcy retrieved the package from her doorstep, he was already in the kitchen in his boxers. “Tony sent you a welcome packet,” she said and laughed. “A bathrobe, some condoms, and a note saying you have clearance to come to the guys poker night.”

“That’s nice of him,” Rumlow said. “Surprising.” He rubbed his chin.

“Tony is actually a good bro. You’ll have to put up with him calling you Rambo, though,” Darcy said.

Rumlow grinned. “I always did like those movies. Coffee?” he said.

“Absolutely,” she said. “Talk to the machine. Literally.”  
  
“It’s voice command operated?” Rumlow said incredulously. “Does it make espresso?”

“Uh-huh. And if you ask one of them for a _large fucking coffee_ , it makes eighteen ounce servings. That’s Jane’s and mine’s setting in the whole building.”

Brock looked at the machine speculatively. “I assume he’s got a name?” he asked.

“My apartment one is called Suleiman the Magnificent and if you use his full name, he’ll make you some really good Turkish coffee,” Darcy said, handing him two large mugs. Rumlow laughed.

“Only you would name your coffee pot after a ruthless Turkish military leader,” he said. “Two fucking coffees. Please?” He looked relieved when the machine started.

“Excuse me, Suleiman was fascinating. He wrote poetry and made legal reforms and fell deeply in love with his wife, Roxelana, even though she was a slave and a concubine,” Darcy said, snagging her mug when the cycle finished.

“Was that a big deal?” Rumlow asked curiously. He eyed her when Darcy poured her cream. It was really more of a bowl than a mug.

“There was a _huge_ scandal because he married her and had her _move in_ with him,” Darcy said, smiling. “I wrote an essay about it at Culver. Sultans never married their mistresses and were supposed to ditch them in the provinces. He wrote her a beautiful poem where he called her ‘his love, his moonlight,’ and said she was “the only one who does not distress me in this world.”  
  
“Sounds romantic,” Rumlow wryly. “I’d read that poem. What was she like?”

“A brilliant redhead who became so powerful it terrified everyone else. Her Turkish name, Hurrem, means ‘the laughing one.’ People gossiped that she had her political rivals executed. I keep trying to convince Nat to go as her for one of Tony’s fancy costume parties, but she says Americans are historically-ignorant children and doesn’t want to spend all night explaining her costume,” Darcy said. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Rumlow asked, rummaging around in the fridge.

“I promised Nat I’d train with her today,” Darcy said. “I forgot.”

“You’ve been distracted. You don’t have enough protein in this fridge,” Rumlow said. “We talked about this. How do you like your eggs?”

“In cake batter,” Darcy said, sticking her tongue out at him when he looked over his shoulder at her. He smirked.

“I’m making you an omelet, sweetheart. What time do you meet the Widow?” he asked.

“I said I’d meet her at three,” Darcy said.

“Good. We’ll both go. I want to see how you’re progressing,” Brock said. Darcy groaned.

“I have to eat eggs and have more of an audience while Nat kicks my ass?” she asked.

“Uh-huh. You’re under new management now, sweetheart. Drink your bowl of coffee and eat your protein and I’ll find a way to keep you occupied until three,” he said. “Wouldn’t want Tony’s welcome packet to go to waste.”

  


***

 

 

They were five minutes late to the training gym. Nat gave Darcy an amused half-smile that suggested she knew exactly how many times Darcy had sex in the last twenty four hours. Rumlow only grinned at the redhead and pulled a chair closer to the edge of the mat, straddling it.

“All right, sweetheart, show me what you’ve got,” he said, grinning.

“Don’t tease me, it breaks my concentration,” Darcy said, dodging a blow from Nat.

“Duly noted,” he said, pulling out his phone and scrolling through something. Darcy thought he wasn’t paying attention until he spoke again. “Shift your weight back on your left foot a little, it’ll help you balance, babe,” he said. He kept up a string of hints as she worked. 

When they paused for water, Nat gave her a significant look. “His advice is very solid. It is helpful to have him as an observer, milaya,” she said in a low voice.

“You approve?” Darcy said, smiling.

“I like a man who is useful,” Nat said. “He will improve you.”  
  
There was a slight cough behind them. Steve had entered the training gym silently and was standing next to Rumlow.

“Catching a cold, Cap?” Rumlow asked, not looking up from his phone.

“I don’t think so,” Steve said quietly. His eyes were on Darcy and Nat.

“Hi, Steve,” Darcy said, making the effort to appear normal. Cool and unruffled, she thought to herself. Also, _her name is Kate. Kate likes running. Kate knows someone who has a boat. Kate hashtags things #mermaidhair. He thinks Kate is worth keeping a secret so no one will hurt her._  

Rumlow’s voice shook her from her thought spiral.  
  
“Get back to the mat, my Baghdad, my Istanbul,” he said. Steve stared at him. He’d been looking up Suleiman’s poetry with his phone, Darcy realized.

“All right, hit me again,” Darcy said. She nodded at Nat. To her credit, Nat didn’t hold back because Rumlow was there. She landed several blows, the last so strong that Darcy distinctly heard Steve make that trapped puppy sound when she stumbled backwards.

“You’re favoring your right side too much,” Rumlow said coolly, not looking up.

“You’re just going to let Nat hit her like that?” Steve said suddenly.

“Pain is an effective training tool, Cap,” Rumlow said, still looking at his phone.

“That’s bullshit,” Steve said in a low voice. Nat slowed fractionally at the sound of Steve’s voice.

“Is it?” Rumlow asked. He finally looked up at Darcy. “I think she can handle plenty, Cap. I want her to be prepared for eventualities.”

“What eventualities?” Steve asked. There was a weird note in his voice. Nat was watching them closely now. Darcy had the strangest feeling of tension in the room. What was going on?

“Someone kidnapping her and Foster because of Foster’s research, someone kidnapping her and Foster because of Thor, aliens, terrorists, random violence, me pissing off someone who comes after her because she’s mine, the usual,” Rumlow said. The hand that held his phone twitched.

“The usual?” Steve said, more quietly. Something about his voice made Darcy get that sad, then pissed off feeling again.

“Would you prefer that I hide, Steve?” Darcy asked. “That he put me in some safe house somewhere and no one know I exist because Brock has a dangerous job?”

Steve looked at her blankly.

“Doesn’t sound like much of a life for her,” Brock said. He had shifted to the cordial tone he used for casual fuckery.

“No, it sounds lonely, actually,” Darcy said then--she thought about those photos of sunsets and cherry blossoms falling from trees onto Steve’s motorcycle--she wondered how Kate had been feeling when she’d been standing on that overlook at Bear Mountain and Steve had said he wouldn’t let her go.

“Shall we return to a more useful activity?” Nat prompted.

“Yeah,” Darcy said, turning to resume training. Rumlow went back to his phone and Steve headed to the corner of the gym and beat one of the reinforced punching bags.

 

As they were leaving, Brock threw his arm around her, glanced at Steve, and said in a low voice, “I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself when people try to intimidate you into being small, sweetheart. We’re not gonna let that happen.”

When Steve broke the bag behind them, Rumlow winked at her. “Besides, I like you big and loud and messy,” he said. “You hungry?”       
 

 

_***_

  

Thor dropped down next to Clint in the grass quietly for such a big man. “It is a fine view, Hawkeye,” he said, reaching over to scratch Lucky behind the ears. Thor could always find Lucky, no matter where Clint had hidden him. The god and the dog sometimes went to the park together, too, when Clint was out of town or Thor was missing Jane. Their bond meant Thor could locate Hawkeye occasionally, if Clint felt like talking.

  
“I like to come here to think, get out of the tower, you know?” Clint said. “Watch the kids play.”

“You are missing Iowa,” Thor said, not unkindly.

“I just got back,” Clint said.

Thor patted Lucky. “Everyone well?” he asked.

Clint nodded.

“It is the best we can hope for,” the Asgardian said, giving him a gentle smile. “When our loved ones are safe. Even if we cannot be with them all the time.” His eyes scanned the horizon.

 

The two men and the dog sat quietly for a while, watching the paddle boats on the lake and children kicking a soccer ball nearby.

 

“I don’t like feeling like the proverbial mushroom, man,” Clint said finally. Thor raised an eyebrow.

“Kept in the dark and fed bullshit,” Clint clarified. The larger man chuckled in response, then turned thoughtful.

“It is difficult. I would not have it so, but I have given my word to Jane,” Thor said. “As I give my word to you, my friend.” Clint nodded; Thor never told anyone about Iowa or Lucky. Clint didn’t even think Jane knew.

“Something went wrong there and I want to fix it,” Clint said. “I feel like I could fix if I knew what all happened. It irks me.”

“You do not like the not knowing,” Thor said, a hint of mischief in his voice. “You are too used to hearing everything in your vents.”

“I want my friends to be happy,” Clint said stubbornly. “You did, too. You saw it.”

Thor frowned and looked sad. “I misjudged Steven, I think.” Clint gave a tiny shake of his head.

 

“What do you think of Rumlow?” Clint asked suddenly.

“He loves her, but there is a darkness in him that I do not like,” Thor said. Clint looked unhappy.

“You tell Jane that?” Clint asked.

“I am reserving judgment. Things can shift, they sometimes do. It is too early,” Thor said.

“I don’t like it,” Clint said, his voice more stubborn again.

“I am not entirely pleased myself,” Thor said.

 

They lapsed into another tiny island of silence.

“Does that mean if you can’t tell me, you can’t help me?” Clint asked suddenly.

Thor grinned.

“This is a worthy distinction, my friend,” he said.

“Planning’s not my strong suit,” Clint said. “You think Jane would be interested in helping us out?”

“I will ask Jane for her permission to tell you all I know,” Thor said, giving Lucky one last pat and departing.

 

The dog and the archer stayed in the park until it got dark.

  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song/mood for this chapter: Lucinda Williams' Out of Touch. 
> 
>  
> 
> Suleiman's poem to Roxelana/Hurrem Sultana:
> 
> Throne of my lonely niche, my wealth, my love, my moonlight.  
> My most sincere friend, my confidant, my very existence, my Sultan, my one and only love.  
> The most beautiful among the beautiful …  
> My springtime, my merry faced love, my daytime, my sweetheart, laughing leaf …  
> My plants, my sweet, my rose, the one only who does not distress me in this world …  
> My Istanbul, my Karaman, the earth of my Anatolia  
> My Badakhshan, my Baghdad and Khorasan  
> My woman of the beautiful hair, my love of the slanted brow, my love of eyes full of sadness …  
> I’ll sing your praises always  
> I, lover of the tormented heart, Muhibbi of the eyes full of tears, I am happy.


	20. Honey, I'm On Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve still has the summertime sadness. Sam shows up.

**Texts from the day after a SHIELD mission, codename: Operation ALTCanon.  
  
**

**Red-Headed Woman:** Jumping out of a plane without a parachute is not the appropriate response to working with Darcy’s new boyfriend. **  
** ****

**Kid from Brooklyn:** It’s just been a bad time, Nat.

 **Red-Headed Woman:** He does not mean to antagonize you.

 **Red-Headed Woman:** You cannot let it get to you.

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** You didn’t hear him when they were helicoptering the three of us from the Tower to DC for the mission.

 **Red-Headed Woman:** It cannot have been that bad.

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** She says come back safe to both of us, right?

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** He got half way across Tony’s helipad, turned back, and told her that he’d come back from the dead for just the chance to kiss her again.

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** Like in a movie.

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** Why can’t I say shit like that at the right moment?

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** I’m going to stay in DC for a few days. I think I need to move all my stuff here. I can’t stand to watch him walk around in one of Tony’s sex guest bathrobes. It’s killing me.

 **Red-Headed Woman:** You’re being melodramatic.

 **Red-Headed Woman:** No one dies of sex guest bathrobe. Unless you misuse the belt.

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** No erotic asphyxiation jokes, please. It’s bad enough I’ve heard them having sex.

 **Red-Headed Woman:** Have you asked out Jennifer from HR yet?

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** I would rather become Captain Canada, Nat.

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** I just wish I was watching a movie with Darcy right now. I think I’m going to take a shower.

 **Red-Headed Woman:** All right.

 

(ten minutes later)

 **Red-Headed Woman:** Steve, you are not allowed to watch _Moulin Rouge!_ alone in your apartment anymore. We’ve discussed this. You are wallowing.

 **Red-Headed Woman:** Also, it is not even that good a film. The _Like A Virgin_ scene is terrible.

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** Shut your commie mouth, Natasha. It’s a masterpiece.

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** Don’t think I don’t know what you’re implying, too.

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** Did you bug my apartment?

 **Red-Headed Woman:** Sam is coming to go for a run with you now.

 

 ****  
******* ****

“Did it hurt?” Darcy asked Bruce, leaning into his lab. They hadn’t seen much of each other since her road trip with Steve.

“When I fell from heaven?” the scientist finished, smiling softly. “Hi, Darcy. How was your little getaway? I missed you.”

Darcy hugged him carefully. “I brought you push pops and a green tea frappuccino to make up for my absence.”

“Is that conversational lapse accidental or...?”

She sighed.

“Like that, huh?” Bruce said, raising an eyebrow. “Sorry to hear that.”

“It wasn’t the trip, it’s...just. I think I need more of a pick-me-up than Juan Valdez or Tony’s petty cash fund can provide,” Darcy said.

“Sounds like a real problem,” Bruce said. “Usually, you’re very good at making the most of coffee and party hats and kazoos, in my experience.” He gave her a small, very kind smile.

“You’re sweet, Bruce,” Darcy said. She sat down on one of the stools in the lab and fiddled with the sleeve of her shirt.

“Darce, you haven’t made a joke in over thirty seconds, should I call Tony? Jane? Emergency medical personnel?” he said, looking genuinely worried.

“Since you’re my Google, I thought I could ask for help,” Darcy said.

 

 ******* **  
** ****

**  
  
Red-Headed Woman: ** Men are children.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Yes.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Thor came home all muddy and covered in dog hair the other day. Still won’t tell me where he met the dog. Wine or margaritas?

 **Red-Headed Woman:** Wine. Will Darcy want to come, too?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **I’ll ask. She went to talk to Bruce about something. I’m worried.

 

  
***

“I didn’t know it was possible to hate someone who saved your life,” Steve said easily.

“You hate him now?” Sam asked, breathing a little more heavily. It was hard to keep pace with Steve Rogers in full pissed off mode. Jealousy only seemed to make him run faster. It was like the pavement was Brock Rumlow’s face.

“He actually said, ‘yeah, you seemed pretty helpless without me’ onboard that ship. I _know_ he was fucking with me, Sam,” Steve said.

“Or pointing out that you’d disarmed all but one dude while saving your ass?” Sam asked skeptically.

“I don’t know what she sees in him. He smirks. I hate the way he looks at her,” Steve said. “It gives me a bad feeling.”

“Bad feeling like he keeps body parts in his basement or bad feeling like he knows what she looks like naked, too?” Sam asked.

“What? I don’t--we didn’t sleep together,” Steve said.

“Jesus H. Christ, slow your roll, Steve. You haven’t slept with her?” Sam asked incredulously.

“You want me to slow down? Having trouble keeping up with the elderly veteran?” Steve asked, grinning.

“It’s an expression,” Sam said, “it means ‘apply the brakes’ metaphorically, smartass. I thought you were with this girl for a whole vacation?”

“Yeah, but we didn’t, I mean, we stayed in separate cabins,” Steve said.

“Uh-huh, so, tell me what happened during the vacation?” Sam asked.

“It was nice,” Steve said, sighing. “Nat found us a place with cabins on a lake and we took my bike out a few times, went to dinner once, listened to music, talked. The kind of trip I thought I would take _before_ with a girl, you know? Go to Niagara, come back on the bike.”

“Romantic dinners?” Sam asked.

“Well,” Steve said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Not exactly. We had a good time. I invited this couple--Jim and Bill--to eat with us. But they were nice fellas.”

“Steve, you have got to be fucking kidding me,” Sam said, coming to a full stop. “You don’t invite strangers to eat with you during a romantic dinner. That’s a platonic dinner move. What the hell were you thinking?”

“They said she looked like Ava Gardner and then the three of them started talking about movies I’d never seen, and she looked so happy. It was just--a nice impulse,” he said.

“You had an outpouring of warmth because they compared your girl to Frank Sinatra’s old lady, didn’t you?” Sam said. “This is how you ended up on the mailing lists for those Feed The Puppies ads, too, isn’t it? With the Sarah McLachlan song?”

“She _does_ look like Ava Gardner,” Steve said in a low voice. “Only her mouth is fuller.”

“Steve, I love you, man, but sometimes you are your own worst enemy,” Sam said. “You should be the one comparing her to the dead actresses. Using that folksy old man charm, Mr. Rogers.”

 

They walked together in silence for a few minutes.

Steve sighed. “What do I do now?” he asked.

“Spent a lot of time thinking about that mouth, huh?” Sam asked.

“She wears red lipstick,” Steve said, looking slightly abashed.

“Hot stuff,” Sam said dryly.

 

***

 

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Do you want to have girls’ night with me and Nat? She's back from DC.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Yeah. Like really.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **What’s wrong? You’ve been quiet all day. You didn’t even smile when Rhodey called Tony “Tony Stank” this morning?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **You’re having doubts about Brock? He do something?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** No, it’s not him. I mean, not exactly. He’s so supportive, but sometimes it feels...too much? I think I need a therapist. That’s what I was asking Bruce about just now. He gave me recs. I’ll be down to the labs in a min.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Are you in a substitute people spiral again?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Maybe. It’s like my moods are rolling blackouts. The light just goes out and then a little while later it comes back on, but I don’t know why. I can’t decide if I’m the one that’s off or if I should be alarmed that my Top Secret! SWAT team macho Italian boyfriend keeps making jokes about it being him and me ‘til the end of time. I should be pleased, right? Am I the problem?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **No, it worries me, too. He called you his wife when we were at gelato. It made Thor go all weird. He says the timing's too soon.

  
  
***

 

“How did you leave things on that trip?” Sam asked. They were hanging out at Steve’s apartment, discussing Darcy again. Sam had been advising Steve since before the whole ‘drunk on Asgardian liquor’ party. Or trying, anyway. Getting information out of Steve was like pulling teeth sometimes. Steve passed him a beer. “Thanks,” Sam said.

“I got a SHIELD call, had to leave,” Steve said.

“Oookay. What happened right before that?” Sam asked.

“I almost kissed her,” Steve said.

“Rogers, are you trying to tell me you haven’t even kissed this girl?” Sam asked. Steve shook his head. Sam covered his face with his hand. “I need a minute to process this shit.”

Steve sighed.

 

“Okay, what’s the very last thing you said to her on your no-kissing, no-sex honeymoon?” Sam asked.

“I didn’t call it a honeymoon,” Steve said.

“Your old ass said ‘Niagara,’ that means honeymoon in old man speak,” Sam said.

“Sam. I, uh, thanked her for being such a good friend,” Steve said.

“Isn’t that the theme song to _Golden Girls_?” Sam said. He burst into laughter. “This woman thinks you want to retire to Florida with her, not get in her pants.”

  
“Is it _that_ bad?” Steve asked.  
  
“Uh-huh.” Sam nodded and pulled out his phone. “She got an Instagram? What’s her handle?”

“It’s @worldsokayestassistantatScience!,” Steve said.

“Let’s check out your competi--damn,” Sam said.

“What?” Steve said.

“She’s gorgeous, you idiot. Ava Gardner ain’t got nothing on her. Wait, is this him? Oh, Steve, you are so fucked. He’s got that hot older guy thing, women love that,” Sam said.

“Tony calls him Rambo?” Steve asked. “What’s that mean?”

“It means Tony thinks he’s a badass motha,” Sam said, scrolling.  
  
“See, that’s it, that’s the smirk,” Steve said, pointing over Sam’s shoulder.

“Yeah, he’s smirking ‘cause he’s got his hand on her ass,” Sam said. “You’d smirk, too. What is he at, like 6% bodyfat? That’s real good for a man his age. He looks like that without serum, it’s impressive.”

“Shut up, Sam.”

“Nice cheekbones, too. Women think about that when they want babies.”

“One time she said something about having my babies,” Steve said quietly.

“On your trip?” Sam asked.

“At the art and crafts store,” Steve admitted.

 

It took Sam five minutes to stop laughing.  

  
“Wait, so let me get this straight: you invite this girl on a road trip, never kiss her or make any other physical advance--”

“I took my shirt off,” Steve said mulishly.  Sam raised an eyebrow. “A little.”

“---let other people eat with y’all, then thank her for being your pal when you leave and you wonder why she thinks you’ve got somebody else?” Sam asked.

“But there’s nobody else. I don’t know what could have given her that idea?” Steve said.

“She seem awkward when you left?” Sam prompted.

“No. She flirted with me, I swear. Joked about how she’d let me pose her.”

“You passed that up?” Sam said, eyebrows at his hairline.

“I was really sketching her.”

“Huh. So, something happened _after_ you left?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure. Maybe she just likes him better,” Steve said sadly.  
  
Sam looked at him for a long moment.

“Steve, why did you hurry out of there instead of kissing the girl and letting the quinjet come to you? And what do STRIKE guys do before missions?” Sam asked.

“Because Rumlow was on the quinj--oh, shit,” Steve said. “Fuck, Sam. They call their dates and their families. Rumlow was looking for me everywhere. Garcia mentioned he had some idea I was shacked up with somebody. I was nervous he’d figured out it was Darcy with me. I hadn’t told SHIELD where I was,” Steve said. “I didn’t want him to see her and make a big scene before the mission.”

“Twenty bucks says Rumlow called up your girl to sayonara and bitched about looking for you with all the aspiring Mrs. Americas that SHIELD’s gossip mill keeps tabs on,” Sam said dryly. “Remember when that SHIELD agent asked me if I was your boyfriend?”

“Damn,” Steve said, running his fingers through his hair and tugging. “I left in a hurry because I didn’t want him to see us together before I made my feelings clear--”

Sam shook his head. “She probably thought she was just friendzoned.”

“Friendzoned?” Steve asked, perplexed.

“Put in a zone of friends only, Pop Pop.”

 

***

 

 

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **You can’t tell Nat. She doesn’t know.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** The fuck she doesn’t. Nat sees all.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **We had it locked down. She doesn’t know. I asked her to tell Steve that Darcy wasn’t interested.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** I tip my hat to you and Thor.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** So, what’s the big fucking secret, then?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Darcy found out from Rumlow that Steve keeps a secret girlfriend in DC. She didn’t want to betray Steve’s secret if it was about keeping this woman safe.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Shit. He’s got somebody else? Shit.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Darcy is really sad about it. She keeps talking about being a ‘substitute person’ when no one else is around.

 **Agent Buff Arms:**?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **The person you make time with until the person you really want comes along.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** So, I can’t kick Steve’s ass?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Nope. None of us can do anything.

 **Agent Buff Arms** : Can I just shoot him with some arrows? Little ones?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Clint no.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** [video link]

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **You did not just rick-roll me.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter/title mood inspiration: Lana del Rey's Summertime Sadness
> 
> Thanks for all the lovely comments and support. Y'all are fantastic!


	21. Soft Ice Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a turn.
> 
> I own nothing.

Darcy made an appointment with one of the psychiatrists that Bruce recommended, resumed helping Jane Science! like a badass, and saw Tony off to California. He was going to visit Pepper.

“I’m going to work on this, Itty Bitty,” Tony said, as they were standing together on the helipad, waiting for the helicopter that would take him to his plane. “I love Pepper. I’ve always loved Pepper. I don’t know why I haven’t done this before.” He was actually nervous; it made Darcy want to wrap her arms around him and yell that she loved his stupid goatee and his sweet genius brain. She settled for squeezing his hand and he smiled back at her.  
  
“Because the idea of someone who really loves you is terrifying?” Darcy suggested. “Especially when you can chase someone who doesn’t instead and never have to put your own heart on the line? If nobody cares, nobody gets hurt.” Tony quirked an eyebrow.

“Been giving this some thought?” Tony asked.

  
“Rambo is different from anyone I’ve ever been with, Tony. He says nice things about me to his relatives. He talks about getting married. Being the focus of someone’s affection like that--focused, unvarnished attention--feels like falling to me. I’ve always been afraid of heights,” Darcy said, smiling a little. “It’s scary. He might be moving a little quickly, but Nat pointed out the other night at girls night that I suffer from low self-esteem. I’ve got a bit of a Thespian Inferiority complex, I think.”

“Lewis, all the best people do,” Tony said, surprising her by leaning over and kissing her on the cheek. “But if we’re smart enough, we can turn it around. Here’s my ride. Wish me luck!” he called as he sprinted to the helicopter.

“I love you, Tony Stark! Good luck!” she called over the noise. He gave her a thumbs up.  


 

***

 

**Master of the Universe:** Cap, I’m going to CA to see Pepper. We’re gonna work on things. I might come back or she could convince me to raise our children in Tahiti or something. Who knows? Hold down the fort for me.

**Kid from Brooklyn:** I’m glad. You know I want you and Pepper to get married.

**Master of the Universe:** Wait, did you send me that subscription to _Brides_? You fucker. I thought Clint did it. He sulked in the vents for a week because I yelled at him.

**Kid from Brooklyn:** Wasn’t me.

**Master of the Universe:** Sure it wasn’t.

**Kid from Brooklyn:** Probably Thor.

**Master of the Universe:** He reads? Magazines?

**Kid from Brooklyn:** I caught him reading my _TIME_ once, the one they gave me free because I’m Captain America? And I’m pretty sure he has Clint steal some of the magazines from the Stark employee break room to read, too. He got Clint a subscription to _Dog Fancy_ for Christmas.

**Master of the Universe:** Huh. But Clint doesn’t have a dog.

**Kid from Brooklyn:** I know. Pretty sure it was some sort of reference I didn’t get.

**Master of the Universe:** Weird.

**Kid from Brooklyn:** Yeah.

**Master of the Universe:** How you holding up?

**Kid from Brooklyn:** Not well. Don’t want to talk about it.

**Master of the Universe:** When I’m a happily married man, you won’t be able to dodge this with me, Cap. I’ll sic Pepper on you.

**Kid from Brooklyn:** Oh God, the two of you will be worse than Nat, trying to set us up.

**Kid from Brooklyn:** I want to fix it. I really do.

**Master of the Universe:** Hurry up, Cap. Rambo is talking marriage.

**Kid from Brooklyn:** I hate him.

**Master of the Universe:** Funny thing, Capiscle, she seems awfully sad for a woman whose boyfriend wants to commit. Almost like she’d rather be dating someone else.

 

***   

 

  
Brock came back into town for a visit. After two days of nonstop Science! with Jane, it was nice to crawl onto the couch and listen to his slow, steady breathing. They were watching one of her favorite movies--a hot thief meets his match in the investigator assigned to his case, sparks fly, that kind of thing--but Darcy couldn’t seem to shake her moodiness or stop thinking about her conversation with Tony.  

“That reminds me, I brought you a present, _gattina,_ ” Brock said suddenly. Onscreen, the hot thief was giving the investigator a diamond necklace. Brock reached into a pocket and pulled out a small box.

“Oh,” Darcy said. “A present.” She took the box, but didn’t open it immediately.

“Sweetheart, what’s bothering you?” he asked. “You know you can tell me.” He stopped kneading her shoulders with one hand and tipped up her chin with his fingers. His gaze was intense. It felt like he could see through her. Maybe he could.

“It feels silly and ungrateful,” she said. “But I’m in a weird mood. Also, maybe struggling with some low-self esteem stuff. I have this exceptionally hot boyfriend who wants to commit to me and it’s a lot. He’s talking marriage. I’m only one girl.”   
  
“Yeah?” he said tenderly. He touched her cheek with the outside of his fingers. “I can be a lot sometimes. Maybe I’m saying too much, too soon, scaring you a little?” She nodded, trying not to cry. His touch was gentle. “Hey, hey, don’t cry, sweetheart. We’ll work this out. You’re tired,” he said. “So you’re feeling vulnerable. It happens when you’re tired.”

“You don’t have to be so damn reasonable,” Darcy said. “Yell at me or something. I’m the one being an asshole.”

He laughed. “Sweetheart, it would take years before you could be the kind of an asshole I am,” he said. “You’re not even an amateur asshole yet.”

  
  
She was still looking at the unopened jewelry box in her lap when he spoke again. “You wanted me to yell at you?” he asked. His voice was curious.

“It was what I expected, yeah,” Darcy said, looking up at him. “Why are you smiling like that?” she asked.

“You’re giving me ideas, baby,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “So many ideas. You’re used to guys who neglect you a little? Maybe get mad, put you down?” he asked.

“Something like that,” she admitted. “I’m not used to sincerity.”

“Those guys who never smile in photos because they think it makes them look badass?” he said, demonstrating with a shift in his expression. It looked so much like her friend Lauren’s dumb college boyfriend that Darcy laughed out loud.

“Yeah, that’s it exactly. You just need a pair of those mirrored sunglasses,” Darcy said. Brock grinned at her.

“That’s obtainable. If you want me to be a little distant and difficult, I can do that,” he said.

“You would do that?” she asked him.

“It might be fun. A game,” he said, running his finger along the edge of her shirt collar. “Have I ever told you how good I am at pretending?” he asked. “I’m very good. I can be lots of things for you, baby. Good, bad, whatever you need.” His expression was intense. He leaned forward and kissed her neck. “What do you say?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I might like that.” She shivered a little at his touch. 

“I don’t think I deserve you, sweetheart. You wanna start tonight?” he asked, his voice husky. “I think we should have a safe word for when you want me to go back. You like vanilla? That work for you?”

“Yeah, it does,” she admitted. It felt like her whole body was blushing.

“You’re sure?” he asked. His expression was almost predatory.  

“Uh-huh, I’m sure,” she said.

“Well, get your ass in that bedroom then,” he said.

  
When she woke up in the morning, he was already gone. He’d left the box on her nightstand. It was a beautiful necklace. A single diamond that floated right at the hollow of her throat. She wore it to work.   
  


***

  
  
True to his word, he played it cool for the rest of the week. Not just cool; icy. He was disinterested and brief on the phone, only responded to one of her five texts, and neglected to confirm their weekend plans. She started to think he might actually be standing her up when he didn’t answer his phone on Friday afternoon. Finally, she gave up and sent a one-word text.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Vanilla.

 

Her phone rang in two minutes. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

“Are you standing me up?” she asked.

“You miss me,” he said, sounding both surprised and pleased. “You wearing my present?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said, touching the necklace at her throat. “I love it.” 

“Good,” he said. She could almost hear him smiling.

“Are you going to show up tonight?” she asked.

“No,” he said. He barked out a laugh and hung up on her.  
  


She stared at her phone. Bruce and Jane looked up from where they were working in the lab.

 

“What’s wrong?” Bruce asked.

“Sonofabitch, he just said no and hung up me. I can’t believe he did that,” Darcy said. “He’s drunk with power and gloating. I can’t believe I brought this on myself.”

Bruce looked confused and scratched his head. “What am I missing?”  


“One day, I am going to have words with your dad,” Jane said hotly.

“We’ve discussed this, Jane. No one’s seen Henry in almost fifteen years. The last I heard, he was on his fourth wife. My mom has been happily remarried for eight years,” Darcy said. “Nobody even realizes my stepdad isn’t my actual dad anymore.”

“I know and you know,” Jane said. “Let’s get Nat and go for drinks tonight. If he does show up, you won’t be here.”

“Can someone explain what is happening to me, please?” Bruce asked politely.

“Daddy issues, Bruce,” Darcy said.

“Should I get some ice cream?” he offered sweetly.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mood/chapter title= Lana Del Rey's Salvatore. Dark and creepy and such a Brock song. Go listen to it ASAP, if you're into that. I love it so much.
> 
> The movie they're watching is the 1999 remake of The Thomas Crown Affair.
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for all your lovely comments and support.


	22. The Whole Town Is Talking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve tries; Rumlow's got his favorite Elvis playing.
> 
>  
> 
> I own nothing!

Nat was definitely in for drinks, so Darcy and Jane went upstairs to change out of their Science! clothes. Jane had to wash the ink from off her hands and--more mysteriously--around her hairline.

“I spent good money on these, so I’m putting them in my hair tonight, whether he shows or not,” Darcy said, pulling out some of her flower hair clips. “Do you want one, too?”

“Nah, but you totally should. Oooh, gardenia, that’s gorgeous,” Jane said. “What about those dresses you tried on for Steve? The raspberry one? Wear that, too.”

 

Nat gave Darcy an appraising look when she got on the elevator. “Very pretty, milaya,” said. “A little old-fashioned, but very pretty.”

“I’m bringing these back, Nat,” she said, patting her hair ornament. “Also, no shaming me when I order a cosmo. I don’t care if they’re a television cliche, I like them.”

“They are vodka for amateurs,” Nat said.

“Pay up, Darce,” Jane said, laughing and putting her hand out.

“Fine, I owe you a drink, Jane. I had money on you saying they were vodka for children, dammit,” Darcy said, looking at Nat.

“That, too,” Nat said, half-smiling.

“See! It’s a draw. We’re both right,” Darcy insisted. She and Jane bickered all the way down to the lobby; Nat merely rolled her eyes.

 

The doors to the elevator opened. Captain America was standing there.

 

“Uh, hi,” Steve said. “Jarvis told me you ladies were here. Darcy, we need to talk.” He gave her a look she couldn’t interpret.

“Steve, I do not think--” Nat began, before Steve cut her off.

“Not the moment, Nat,” Steve said crisply. “I have something I need to say to Darcy.” He was using his Captain America voice now. Commanding and authoritative and full-on bossypants.

“You are being ridiculous,” Nat told him. “You will upset her.”

“Nat, buzz off, okay?” Steve said, “I am _so_ tired of your meddling. It’s not funny anymore.”

“Steve, you’re out of line,” Darcy said quietly, but firmly. “Nat cares about you.”

“Darcy,” Steve said, his voice softening. “Give me just a damn minute.”

“All right, we’ll talk, but apologize to Natasha first,” Darcy said.

“I’m sorry, Nat,” Steve said, “but this is important.” He pulled Nat aside and whispered something in her ear. Darcy heard Nat distinctly mutter something about men being children as she and Jane walked off the elevator. Jane pulled a face and gestured for Darcy to call her behind Steve’s back.

“Well?” Darcy said to Steve. He hesitated.

 

***

 

“What the hell was that?” Jane asked Nat, once they were out on the sidewalk in front of the Tower.  
  
“Steven,” Nat said with something approaching venom, “would like like me to convey to everyone that he does not, nor did he ever, have a secret girlfriend in DC. That was a rumor only.”

“Oh shit,” Jane said. “Shit fuck.”

“I take it this is a problem?” Nat said coolly.

“Darcy thought he did,” Jane said. “All this time. We kept it from you.”

“You should know better than to keep things from me,” Nat said. “If you had told me, I could have clarified matters for Darcy. Also, Steve wants to kill me because I have been trying to set him up with Lisa from HR, but this is a minor concern. I do not think he would succeed.”

 

***

 

“You look beautiful,” Steve said, as the elevator doors closed. He hit the button for the roof level. “Very beautiful.”

“Seriously? That’s what the big rush is about?” Darcy asked, eyes wide.

“Is it so wrong for me to compliment you?” Steve asked, frowning. The elevator went up. “I’m just trying to be polite,” he said.

“Oh, really? Could have fooled me,” Darcy said. “You were really rude to Nat. I’ve never seen you behave like that, Steve. Your mama--”

“Would be ashamed of me,” Steve said, rubbing his eyes with his hands. “I’ll pay her back in her favorite Austrian pastries or that vodka she likes. Look, there’s something important you need to know. Come up to the garden with me.”

 

***

“So, what is it?” Darcy asked. There was a breeze. That was pleasant. The plants were also lovely. Tony had told her once that a roof garden was Pepper’s idea. They’d planned to have romantic dinners up here. Darcy hoped Tony was having a good night with Pepper, wherever he was. She chose not to spend too much thinking about how high up they were or looking at the edges of the roof. It was all in not looking down, she’d learned that well enough to enjoy some of the Tower balconies.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot you’re afraid of heights,” Steve said, reading her expression. “I just needed air.”

“It’s fine, really,” Darcy said. “I can handle it.”  
“Sit here,” Steve said, hovering and guiding her over to a chair.

Darcy restrained herself from yelling Bubble Wrap, but didn’t sit down. Steve took a step back and ran a hand through his hair nervously.

 

“I don’t have anyone in DC, Darcy. I never did,” Steve said finally.

“Oh. I thought Kate was your secret girlfriend. Rumlow said you were keeping her a secret--,” Darcy began, shocked.

“She’s just my neighbor, not my girlfriend. I don’t know why Rumlow would even mention it, but it’s not true. It was never true,” Steve said, suddenly angry. “Typical Brock.”

“Why are you angry with him?” Darcy asked.

“Because, as I see it, he got this whole mess started, repeating gossip,” Steve said. “Talking about me behind my back.”

“I’m sure he didn’t realize he was wrong about Kate,” Darcy said. “He really thought that.”

“Yeah, right,” Steve scoffed. “You haven’t heard him, snarking at my heels on missions. Are you defending him?”

“Steve, you sound paranoid. It was an honest mistake. Stop being so hard-headed.”

“You are the stubbornest, most hard-headed woman I’ve ever met,” Steve said, his voice an odd mixture of softness and exasperation.

“Yeah, because you’re so easy-going, a real dream to be around,” Darcy said, poking at his chest with her finger. “What do you want Steve? Why are you lecturing me again?”

He grabbed her and pressed his mouth urgently and fumblingly against hers. It was a good kiss, a distant part of Darcy’s brain recorded, as she processed what was happening. Steve Rogers had definitely kissed someone before. Probably a showgirl. Possibly a lot of showgirls. He’d had practice. His fingers were still in her hair when Darcy pulled away slightly. Steve breathed heavily. Darcy spoke first.

“Steve, you cannot just go around _Captain America_ kissing people like that,” she said. “I don’t care how many showgirls you’ve kissed before.”

“Been wanting to do that since you hit your head carrying on about Christmas lights,” he said in a low voice. At any other moment, Darcy would have really enjoyed that voice and the sentiment it expressed, but dammit, they’d been having an argument.

“What are we doing now?” Darcy asked. “Steve?”

“Real close talking,” Steve said, a touch of sass in his voice. He leaned his forehead against the top of her head and sighed. He pulled her a little closer. He smelled like fall spices and sandalwood. It was a warm smell. Reassuring. They should pipe it in banks. “Have dinner with me?” he asked.

“No, I mean not just tonight, Steve,” Darcy said. She was trying to wriggle out of Steve’s grasp so her brain would work correctly and stop thinking about how nice Steve smelled, but he was stupidly strong. And warm. So warm. She could just stay here for the foreseeable future, it would be fine.

“I thought I would tell you I didn’t have anybody and--” Steve trailed off. Darcy felt something like a stab between her ribs. She was not fine after all.

“I would just melt into your arms? That how I feel doesn’t matter, not when Captain America finally decides to make a move?” Darcy asked. Steve let her go a little. He kept his hands on her elbows.

“You don’t, I thought we--” he asked, looking hurt and surprised.

“You really did, didn’t you? That all you’d have to do is kiss me and I’d be your girl?” Darcy asked, putting asperity in the last two words. Steve flinched, but didn’t speak for a moment.

  
“Well?” she prompted.

 

“What is it you want me to say?” he said, sexy voice abandoned. “I planned to say something on the trip, but I got called away and Rumlow did whatever he did and things got all messed up. I didn’t know how to talk to you.”

“Steve, you could have picked up a phone. Sent a text. I mean, Tony would have helped you hire a singing telegram or a skywriter, just for the fun of it,” Darcy said. “We live in the same building. You left town to avoid me.” That had hurt her feelings.

“Am I moving too fast or too slow now,” Steve asked with infuriating mulishness, “because a second ago, you said I shouldn’t kiss you and now you’re complaining that I’ve made you wait too long?”

“Don’t use your Old Man sarcasm on me,” Darcy said. “I’m leaving.” She turned and walked towards the exit.

  
“I guess that’s a no on dinner then?” he called after her angrily.

 

She was so pissed she had Jarvis lock down her elevator. “Captain America can get his own damn elevator. Where are Jane and Nat?” she asked. The AI informed her that they were presently outside the building.

 

When she got to the ground floor, she bolted straight for the main exit. She could see Nat and Jane on the sidewalk, their backs to her.

“You are not gonna believe this shit,” she called out as she stomped out. They turned to look at her.

“Hey, sweetheart, not having a good night?” a familiar voice said. Brock Rumlow was leaning against a dark Jeep, in front of Jane and Nat. “You look a little upset,” he said wryly.

“I thought you weren’t coming tonight,” she said, surprised.

“Changed my mind. Can’t live without you,” he said. "I like that flower in your hair. Suits you." There was the sound of someone opening the door behind her.

“Darcy---,” she heard Steve say and then he stopped abruptly.

“Hey, Cap,” Rumlow said casually. 

“Rumlow,” Steve said.  

 

“So, what do you say, sweetheart, want to go for a ride with me?” Rumlow asked, indicating the vehicle behind him. “It’s a nice night. Already got the soft top down.”

“Since you asked, yeah, I would,” Darcy said. “That sounds fantastic. Have a drink for me?” she said to Nat and Jane. Jane nodded. They both looked a little baffled. In Natasha, baffled was a micro-expression, but Jane’s eyebrows were somewhere around her hairline.

 

Brock helped her into the Jeep and her harness-style seatbelt, then shut the passenger door. He came around to the driver’s side, buckled himself in, and cranked the car. They pulled out into traffic.

“Feel like some Elvis?” he asked conversationally, pressing buttons.

“Yeah,” she said. The sound of “Am I Ready” eased out of his speakers.

“I like this one,” Brock said. He smiled at her.

“Me too,” Darcy said.

They stopped at a red light.

“So, Cap finally told you that he was into you, huh? He probably hasn't struck out that badly since before D-Day,” Brock said.

“Wha--how did you know?” Darcy asked.

“There were signs,” Brock said. The Jeep radio was playing “Don’t Be Cruel” now.

“Signs?” Darcy said.

“He don’t make that sound when female agents take hits in training, sweetheart,” Brock said.

“Oh,” Darcy said. “I didn’t know that.”

“And your lipstick ain’t his color, baby,” Brock said. At her horrified expression, he threw back his head and laughed.

She stared at him.

“You should’ve seen your face coming out that door. You looked like a wet cat. I was gonna ask you if you felt like taking a weekend trip with me? I got Nat to grab you a go-bag. I’m guessing you wouldn’t mind being gone for a few days?” he said, still amused. “Monday’s a federal holiday.”

“No, I wouldn’t mind,” Darcy said, glancing at her suitcase in the back. “It’s a Stark holiday, too. Tony’s out of town.” Brock grinned at her.

“Good, we can play hooky,” he said. “You’re gonna like where we’re going.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title/mood inspiration: Elvis Presley's It Hurts Me for Steve; Rumlow likes Am I Ready for...reasons.
> 
> Thanks for all the comments & kudos! Y'all are the best!


	23. She's Gone, I Know Not Where

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where'd they go?
> 
> I own nothing.

The wind in her hair was oddly soothing in the dark and Darcy fell asleep in the passenger seat. When she woke up again, “Indescribably Blue” was playing on the radio. There was a faint blue light in the air that meant it was almost dawn.

“Brock,” she said sleepily, her mouth dry, “where are we?”

“On I-81 somewhere in Virginia, sweetheart. Go back to sleep, I’ll wake you when we stop,” he said, taking his hand off the gearshift to squeeze her knee. “Won’t be too long.”

“Have you been driving all night?” she asked. “Are you okay to do that?”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, “you get some sleep.”

“Are you going to tell me our final destination?” she asked.

“Nope,” he said, laughing. She made a face.

“Very unfair, Agent Gelato,” she said.

“All’s fair in love and war, sweetheart,” he said. She listened to the music for awhile and then fell asleep again, resting her head against his shoulder across the console.

 

When he woke her, the sun was shining and they were in the Blue Ridge mountains. “Food?” he asked cheerfully. “I bet you need to pee,” he said, as he took an exit. “Which of these terrible fast food options is your favorite?”

“Don’t you need sleep?” she asked him.

“I have done sixteen hour stakeout shifts, baby, this is nothing,” he said.

“Bojangles,” she said decisively.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow. “Spicy.”

“Shut up,” she said. He was almost too attractive. It was irritating.

 

***

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Does anyone know where they actually went?

 **Red-Headed Woman:** It was a surprise. He did not tell me, only asked me to pack a go-bag for her on Wednesday.

 **Master of the Universe:** So, Rambo is a closet romantic? You think they’re in the Caribbean? Hawaii? He could have driven her to the airport? If I’d known, I’d have offered a plane.

 **Red-Headed Woman:** I do not think so. He did not tell me to pack a bathing suit. How is Pepper?

 **Master of the Universe:** More than I could ever deserve. She sends her love. [photo]

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Awwww. I love it when my kids are happy.

 **Red-Headed Woman:** It is very touching.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Tony! You made Nat have an emotion.

 **Master of the Universe:** It’s been a helluva week, folks.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **She’s not in Hawaii. She texted me a photo of a Bojangles today.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** That don’t sound romantic.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: ** She _loves_ Bojangles. [photo]

 **Red-Headed Woman:** She is smiling. I did not know it was possible to be that happy about fast food restaurants.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** That’s cause you’ve never been to a Dairy Queen.

 **Master of the Universe:** How is Steve?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Thor took him to the park. They’ve patched things up.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **They’re playing Ultimate Shield with that plastic shield prototype you made again. Rhodey went, too.

 **Master of the Universe:** Good. That always cheers Steve up.

 

***

 

“What you thinking?” Brock asked her once, somewhere near Cherokee National Forest.

“How much I love this country. How much I love the south,” she said. “The physical beauty of it, I mean.”

“Even from an interstate?” he asked skeptically.

“The way the light changes and the landscape. Even if some of these mountain roads are scary as hell,” she said. He smiled. “Also, I’m a weirdo in that I actually like humidity,” she said.

“Nobody likes humidity,” he said.

“I think it makes my skin look pretty,” she said. He laughed.

 

They had been driving for almost eleven hours when it dawned on her where they were headed. “No fucking way,” she said out loud. “You--you did not plan this out while you were pretending to avoid me. No one else would suffer through this trip with me. I’ve tried to convince Jane, she said no.”

“It’ll be about five more hours, but we should be there by the time it gets dark, sweetheart,” he said.

“Oh God, I think I love you,” she said. “This is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.” He barked out a laugh.

“That’s the idea,” he said. “C’mere, put your head on my shoulder again. I liked that.”  

She complied and could feel him chuckle slightly.

“You’re the only woman I know who thinks Graceland is a romantic destination,” he said.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title/mood: Elvis Presley's I'm Left, You're Right, She's Gone
> 
> Thanks for all the lovely comments. Y'all are the best!


	24. You Can Shake An Apple Off An Apple Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graceland....and *kaboom*
> 
> *I own nothing.

He was endlessly patient with her. Their first full day in town, she dragged him to all the _other_ Memphis music places she’d ever wanted to see, too: Sun Records (“So small!”), Beale St. (“Ooh, the Elvis statue!”), Elvis’s old high school (“Brock, will you take my picture out front?” “Sure, sweetheart”), even the housing projects Elvis had lived in as a teenager (“He was born in a one-room shack, they were so poor before he made it”). They circled the block around Sam Phillips’ _second_ Memphis studio twice (“You can’t tour it, because it’s still a working studio, Jack White reupholstered one of their 1960s-era couches a few years ago, Brock”).  
  
They were eating barbeque at a touristy place when she caught him looking at her wistfully.

“What is it, babe?” she asked. “What’s wrong? Am I making you crazy with all my Elvis trivia?”

“No, sweetheart,” he said, shaking his head a little. “I love your Elvis thing. It’s cute.”

“Tell me what it is,” she said softly.

“Not the right moment,” he said gently. “I’ll tell you later, okay?”

“All right. Still, no one thinks my Elvis thing is _cute_ okay, it’s practically an intervention-level psychological problem at this point.”

“I dunno, I’m afraid I’m gonna lose you to one of these Elvis fanatic guys when we get to the big show tomorrow, they’d love you,” he said, smiling.

He’d started calling the Graceland tour ‘the Big Show.’ It made her want to make out with him. She’d kissed him all over downtown Memphis already.

“Ahhh,” she said, “you’re the best boyfriend.”

“Am I?” he said, incredulously. “I don’t think so, sweetheart. Seems like listening to your girlfriend talk about Elvis should be an easy thing to do.”

“You’re adorable. I can’t handle it. I think I’m going to die,” she said. He laughed.

 

When they got back to the hotel room, he smiled at her and turned on an Elvis movie. “This one’s the western, right? Can we watch that?” he asked. She practically leapt on him.

  
***

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Janey, we’re in Memphis. He brought me to Graceland!!!

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** [photo] That’s Elvis’s high school!  

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Oh my God. He’s in love with you.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **I hope he brought earplugs for all those high-pitched dolphin sounds you were probably making. You know that you shake and freak out when you do Elvis-related things.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** No earplugs. But he’s getting lots of sex on this trip.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Oh God, the two of you are going to end up in some sort of Pavlovian loop where he plays Elvis movies to get you in the mood.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** YOU ARE BRILLIANT, I’M TOTALLY GONNA *DO* THAT [wink emoji]

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Just not that Elvis movie where Mary Tyler Moore plays a nun, please? I can’t handle that mental image.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** _Change of Habit_ is a really interesting movie, I still think you need to give it another chance.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Oh Dear God, never again.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Did you make Brock watch that nightmare?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** No, he wanted to watch _Flaming Star_ tonight.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: ** Darcy, he’s either in love with you or he’s completely insane. No one has wanted to watch _Flaming Star_ since at least 1967.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** [rude emoji]

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Janey, he’s being so good to me, I cannot even deal.

 

***

 **Alpha 2:** Everything is go. Direct to McCarren. First class. [link]

 **Agent Gelato:** Roger that. Appreciate it.

 **Alpha 2:** How’s it going? You seen the Jungle Room yet?

 **Agent Gelato:** Tomorrow. Having a great time.

 **Alpha 2:** Bring me back a souvenir.

 **Agent Gelato:** You want a casino shot glass or a pink caddy keychain?

 **Alpha 2:** Both.

 **Alpha 2:** Good luck.

 **Agent Gelato:** Thanks, Jack.

 

***

 

“You’re impossibly sweet to me,” Darcy whispered to Brock as they started The Big Show. He’d been body-blocking tourists so she could linger on her way into the house without being bumped into. It was sunny and warm, so Graceland was packed. He’d kept his arm around her and shot a dirty look at anyone who threatened to walk into her while staring at their phone.

“Not a big deal. Peacock stained glass?” he said, gesturing to the dining room.

“He liked them. He actually kept some on the grounds, until they started to damage the cars,” Darcy said. “Don’t let me forget to look up. I’m so short, I always forget.”

“Look up, baby, you’re missing the fancy chandelier,” he said, pointing with his free hand and smiling indulgently down at her.

She had almost as much fun watching his reactions to the house as she did seeing it again.

“Carpet in the kitchen?” he asked incredulously.

“Even I have no idea what that’s about,” Darcy said. “I’ve never seen it anywhere else.”

“Thank God,” Brock said. She laughed.

“Ready for the Jungle Room?” she asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he teased.

  
“The pink cadillac is very pink,” Brock observed wryly, when they got to the car museum section.

“Uh-huh. Supposedly, he bought it for his mama, but she didn’t drive, so I think he just liked pink a lot. Man after my own heart,” she said.

“You don’t wear that much pink,” he said.

“But I like what I like,” she said. “Like you, for example.” She leaned up and kissed him. When she pulled away, he looked at her for a long moment.

“Feeling’s mutual,” he said.

  
***

 **Alpha 2** : ?

 **Agent Gelato** : Not yet.

***

 

“I’m so happy right now,” Darcy said, as they stood on the sidewalk in front of Graceland’s music gates. They’d come to see them at night as a last little thing. The spotlights at Graceland shimmered in the darkness up the drive. Darcy wanted a picture of that view at night that she could say she’d taken herself. The closing act of the Big Show.

 

“You have a good time these past few days?” he asked softly, his arm still around her.

“The best. I wish I could do something for you that would make you this happy,” she said.

“There’s just one thing I want, sweetheart,” he said.

“Name it,” Darcy said.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, smiling. “Might be difficult.”

“Brock, please,” Darcy said. “I can do anything. I have friends in high places.”

“Can you now?” he said. “I don’t think you’ll need ‘em for this, sweetheart.”

He smiled and got down on one knee in front of Elvis’s driveway.

“Marry me, Darcy Lewis?”

 

***

 ****  
**  
** **Agent Buff Arms:** Who has eyes on Cap? Fuck.

 **Red-Headed Woman:** What now?

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Rambo proposed to Darcy. Jane’s on the phone with her right now in the lab.

 **Master of the Universe:** Well, shit.

 **Master of the Universe:** There’s a photo of a plane window, too? I thought Jane said they drove? [link]

 **Red-Headed Woman:** They are en route to Las Vegas.

 **Master of the Universe:** Vegas?

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Fuck.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** $200 says Elvis-themed wedding, kids.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **They’re eloping to Vegas, she just told me.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** What do we do?

 **Red-Headed Woman:** I’ll tell Steve.

 

***

 

When she came out of the bathroom in their hotel in her dress, she found him looking out the window. The lights of the Strip twinkled over his shoulders. His reflection in the glass was serious.

 

“Are you having second thoughts?” she asked him. He turned.

“No,” he said, “Why would I? You know how much I love that dress.” He grinned.

“I forgot it’s bad luck for you to see me in it,” Darcy said.

“Oh, I don’t think it is,” he said, his expression growing wicked. He took a step towards her.

“You’re not supposed to make that face at me before the ceremony,” she said, laughing.

“I’m not?” he said with mock innocence. He took another step closer.

“Nope,” she said. “I’m pretty sure you’re breaking a rule there, too.” She stepped back.

 

He’d cornered her against a wall--his hands on either side of her--when he said, “let’s break all the rules, sweetheart,” and got on his knees.

 

***

 

 **Alpha 2:** Driver picked up your car in Memphis. I left the keys in your desk. Meeting with Pierce at 08:00 tomorrow. ETA?

 **Agent Gelato:** I’m dropping her at Stark first. I’ll be there.

 **Alpha 2:** You’ll be cutting it close.

 **Agent Gelato:** Pierce will forgive me. He’s a wonderful old man.

 **Alpha 2** : You sure about that?

 **Agent Gelato:** One wolf recognizes another, Jack.

 **Alpha 2:** Did you just quote that goddamn Paul Newman movie again? Are you just quoting Paul Newman?

 **Alpha 2:** Congratulations, by the way.

 **Agent Gelato:** We’re gonna be very happy together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title inspiration/mood tracklist: Elvis Presley's Stuck on You (and as a B side, Trouble?)
> 
> Relevant clip for those Paul Newman quotes: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oWqqQxjoNwA
> 
> Alpha 2 = Jack Rollins in case that's unclear
> 
> Thanks for all your comments and support. Y'all are the best!


	25. Ladies and Gentlemen, For the Very First Time....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. & Mrs. Rumlow.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** JUST MARRIED! [photo]

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard:** You look so happy! I love you so much! Congratulations!

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **He better bring you back, though.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** He says he will.

 **Master of the Universe:** Congrats, Mr. & Mrs. Rambo!

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Ditto. I hope you kids will be real happy.

 **Red-Headed Woman:** Pozdravleniya to you and your new husband, milaya.

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** Congratulations, Darcy.

  
***

 **Master of the Universe:** Okay, how do we really feel about this?

 **Agent Buff Arms:** I don’t like it. Not one bit. [Flossie Dickey meme]

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** I hate Brock Rumlow. I hate his face.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Worried. I didn’t expect him to move so fast.

 **Red-Headed Woman:** Do you think he has other motivations?

 **Master of the Universe:** Access to my stuff for SHIELD?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Or mine? Whenever I ask Thor what he thinks, Thor says he loves her, but then he gets a look.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** What look?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **The one he got when Steve ate all his secret ice cream that time. Sad and surprised and faintly baffled by it all.

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** When I look at that photo, I feel like I could have an asthma attack again.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** You don’t have asthma.

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** I used to.

 **Master of the Universe:** He weighed 99 lbs soaking wet. [photo]

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Holy shit. That’s Cap?

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** Shut up, Tony. Who gets married in a black shirt and a black suit anyway?

 **Master of the Universe:** I’m pretty sure he stole that look from Elvis. [photo of 60s Masters collection]

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **She has a copy of that photo in her apartment.

 **Red-Headed Woman:** He is very exhaustive in finding her likes and dislikes.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** You know what that means. [wink emoji]

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** I hate him so bad. I hate his smirk and his stupid haircut and his 6% percent body fat.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** He has 6% body fat? Can you just tell that by looking at someone from the serum?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **There are some photos of him shirtless on Darcy’s insta [photo 1, photo 2, photo 3]

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** It’s a stupid haircut. He probably thinks it makes him look like Elvis, too.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** I got $100 on him growing the sideburns in the next year.

 **Master of the Universe:** Young, thin Elvis sideburns or full 1970s set?

 **Red-Headed Woman:** Whichever are Darcy’s favorites. Jane?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **She refuses to admit whether or not 50s Elvis or jumpsuit Elvis is her favorite.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Watch his sideburns. That’ll tell you.

 

***

 

The new Mr. and Mrs. Rumlow flew from Vegas to NYC together. Jarvis let them into the darkened building at 4am and Brock said goodbye to her in the lobby.

“Gotta get back to DC, sweetheart. There’s a big meeting with the man today about his pet project,” he said. “He don’t like to be kept waiting. You get some rest.”

“When do I get you back?” Darcy said, her arms still wrapped around his waist.

“Late tonight. I’ve got a wedding present for you,” he said. “I think you’ll like it.”

“You’ll spoil me,” she said. “I’ll be ruined for other men forever.” He smiled at her.

“Oh, I hope so, ‘cause you’re all mine now.” He kissed her forehead.  “Mine, my wife,” he said softly. “Wife. I like saying that.”

“Be careful,” she said to him when he finally let her go. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but your job is dangerous.”

He grinned. “Oh, you’d be surprised how boring it is after a while, sweetheart,” he said. “I was dying of boredom. You’re the most interesting thing that’s happened to me in years.”

“Liar,” she said. He gave her a barking laugh and melted into the dark.

She stood alone in the lobby for a few minutes, looking at her wedding ring and the spot where her husband had been. It all seemed faintly unreal. “I’m married,” she whispered to herself. “Actually married.” Then she went upstairs and fell into bed.

 

***

 

“You’re really in love,” Jane said to her in the middle of a Science!-heavy binge that day.

“What?” Darcy asked, taking out an earbud.

“You’re madly in love,” Jane said, laughing. “You’ve been singing that Johnny Cash song out loud for five minutes. You were actually belting it.”

“I’m a smitten kitten,” Darcy agreed. “And Johnny’s songs are great. Wait, exactly how loud was I singing?”

“You don’t want to know,” Jane said, going back to her readings.

 

She got her answer a little while later, when Bruce came by to talk to Jane.

“How high is the Science!, mama?” he said to her, doing a pretty good Johnny Cash impression.

“Oh, no,” Darcy said, covering her face.

“You were pretty cute, actually,” he said. “For an old married lady.”

“Bruce, I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket,” she said, blushing.

“I’ll still marry you if it doesn’t work out with this gelato guy,” Bruce said loyally. “But maybe register for some earplugs or something.” Jane snorted.

“I regret teaching you to joke,” Darcy said. “I made a tragic error with my future second husband.” Bruce smiled at her.

“You know Tony is going to make a big deal out of this when he gets back,” Jane said. “He sent me photos of himself pouting because he missed the wedding.”

“He’ll probably make you have a second one here,” Bruce said.

“I’m still processing my first one,” Darcy said. “I wish you guys could have made it, but Brock had to get back to DC for some big meeting this morning. It was all very impulsive.”

 

***

 

When they got out of the car at the Ideal Federal Savings Bank, Jack looked at Brock curiously. “You going to tell Pierce that you married Foster’s assistant this weekend?” he asked.

“Nope,” Brock said, shutting his car door. “He hates distractions when he plays with the Asset. Doesn’t like us to talk. Says too much outside chatter messes with the wipes.”

“What could he hear when he screams like that?” Jack asked.

Brock shrugged.

  
“Shit, this place creeps me out,” Jack said as they entered the building. Brock laughed.

“Man up, Jody Varner, or the old man won’t let you mind the general store one day,” Brock said. “He’ll leave this whole place to me instead and I’ll be the one in the white shirt and black tie, running the town.”

“Yeah, yeah, you're going to run the mill and shoe the livestock and lend the money one day, when the old man needs somebody to inherit. How many times do I have to hear your "I'm a young dangerous man" speech? I hate that goddamned movie, you know that,” Jack said sourly. “Garcia thinks you over-identify with Paul Newman’s character because he likes to set things on fire and you did explosives work in the military.”

“You and Garcia got no poetry in your souls. Fire is the great spiritual cleanser,” Brock said, grinning. “It’s a useful tool in our line of work. Gets rid of rot. Lets new things grow.”

“Uh-huh,” Jack said. “At least find another movie where the lead is a scheming arsonist who marries the girl for your life plan. I could use a little conversational variety. I’m fucking tired of you comparing me to the girl's chickenshit little brother.”

“There is no other movie, Jody,” Brock said, swinging a door open. “That’s the only one for me.”

***

 

When she stopped by her apartment in Tower to get a sweater, Darcy found a package waiting on her coffee table. It was wrapped in brown paper and red and white string. There was a note attached.

_Dear Darcy,_

_Congratulations on your marriage. I hope you will be very happy and that he takes good care of you. Been working on this for awhile and thought it would make as good a wedding gift as any I could give. I hope it’s what you imagined._

_Best Regards,_

_Steve_

 

She unwrapped the package carefully. He’d drawn her a pastel of Coney Island and had it framed. It was beautiful. He’d remembered. It was a lovely wedding gift, she thought. She should probably work up the nerve to thank him in person after yelling at him and implying he was an entitled asshole before literally running away from home. Or she could, you know, stick a thank you card under his door. Like a chicken.

 

“Jarvis,” she asked, “Is Steve in the building?”

“I’m afraid not, Mrs. Rumlow. Captain Rogers has moved to Washington permanently for the foreseeable future. He vacated his apartment in the Tower yesterday, before you and Mr. Rumlow returned to New York,” the AI said. “I am sorry. Ms. Romanoff also returned with him to Washington on SHIELD business.”

  
“Thank you, anyway, J-man,” Darcy said. “Is everyone in DC without me and Jane?” she said aloud, trying to sound joking, not sad. “Has SHIELD stolen all my people?”

“It would appear so. With sir gone to California and Mr. Barton departed to whereabouts unknown, only you, Dr. Foster, Dr. Banner, and HRH Prince Thor remain in residence in the Tower,” the AI said.

  
“Oh, man, Clint’s gone, too? I wanted to see him,” Darcy said. “I brought him back a souvenir shot glass. I’m going to miss all my people.”

“I am sorry. However, Mr. Rumlow has just messaged you to say he plans to return tonight at approximately eleven pm and will remain in residence for at least 24 hours before returning to DC for a mission,” the AI said.

“How exactly is my husband able to manage that flex schedule, Jarvis?” Darcy wondered aloud. Brock had intimated that he was such a workaholic that he had massive amounts of unused PTO stockpiled, but Darcy wondered how he negotiated it with SHIELD. Maybe being team leader meant you had more flexibility? It seemed unlikely. Most places didn’t let you stockpile and Nick Fury didn’t seem like the matrimonial leave type.

 

A few minutes later the AI replied, “Mr. Rumlow says that he calls in a lot of favors. Also, that people are afraid of him.”

Darcy laughed.

 

***

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** I’ll get over this, right? People get over worse.

 **Master of the Universe:** They do.

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** Do they really?

 **Master of the Universe:** That’s what I hear. I’m still recovering from Howard Stark choosing you over me during the FDR administration.

 **Master of the Universe:** I’m not the guy to ask, probably.

 **Red-Headed Woman:** Do not make me call Pepper.

 **Master of the Universe:** Sorry, Cap.

 **Kid from Brooklyn:** It’s all right, Tony. I know what you meant.

 

***

 

Brock took her out to dinner at a random little restaurant in the Bronx that stayed open all night. He’d brought her wedding present. “What do you think?” he asked as she unwrapped it.

“It’s a baton?” she asked.

“Taser rod, sweetheart. More powerful than a regular taser. You’ve trained with the Widow long enough to hit somebody and this will give you a little juice,” he said.

“My husband is so romantic,” she said. “How’d you know this was what I wanted?” He laughed.

“I use them at work. Everytime I see one I think about you zapping Thor’s ass when he fell on you and it makes me smile,” he said.

 

“How did you know about that place?” she asked as they left the restaurant. They were a little off the beaten path.

“This is my old neighborhood, remember?” he said. “Why don’t we take a walk?” He was showing her the neighborhood, but she noticed he was also making sure they weren’t being followed.

“Are we about to be mugged? Do I need to get my wedding present?” she said in a low voice. He laughed.

“Good catch, sweetheart. We’re fine, I just need to show you a place,” he said. He led her to an inconspicuous apartment building and took her inside.

The apartment looked un-lived in. There was no television for a start. Minimal furniture.

“Sorry if I scared you. Sit down,” he said. She sat down in the chair he pulled out for her.

“This is a safe house, isn’t it?” she asked. He nodded affirmatively. “SHIELD?” she asked, already knowing the answer. She could see it in the line of his shoulders. He only tensed like that when he had to tell her something he didn’t want to say.

“No, not SHIELD. It’s my safe house,” he said, sighing. “Ours, sweetheart.”

“You have a personal safe house?” she asked.

“Remember when I told that my father was drummed out of SHIELD for pissing off the wrong people?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said.

“There may have been a small suspicion of embezzlement,” he said wryly, “but they never found the money.”

“He hid it with your grandparents, didn’t he?” Darcy said.

“Yeah, they were looking for electronic transfers, not under my nonna’s roses. He’d buried it when they were out of the house, probably. I found it after they passed away and I was cleaning up the house for my sister and her husband,” he said, smiling at her. “I couldn’t turn it in, because he’d go to jail and it might hurt my advancement. It’s not like SHIELD doesn’t blow money left and right in any case. I’m not sure Fury doesn’t blow his nose with $100 bills.”

“So, you turned it into a down payment on a safe house?” Darcy said. She realized she was holding her breath a little. Her husband had a secret safe house with his dad’s shady money. She wasn’t sure which part of that was the weirdest part. Then again, Tony had a whole panic room system built out of the Stark arms dealing fortune and he was like her surrogate brother. Getting married in Vegas might be the least weird thing in her life.

“Seemed like a smart investment in the future,” Brock said. “You never know.”

“Why tell me now?” she asked. She knew there was a reason.

He paused.

“The future is coming faster and faster everyday, baby. I’m worried. It’s hard to explain,” he said, rubbing his jaw. “The details aren’t important and I don’t want to tell you anything that could put you in danger. SHIELD has a new project. It’s a surveillance system that can be weaponized.”

“Is this the one you had the meeting about?” she asked. He nodded.

“There’s a possibility that people--outside people--will want access to that system. It’s a high value target. We could already be infiltrated, for all I know. I can’t even trust my own team to be clean. But we won’t know until someone makes a move. I can’t whistleblow until I know the extent of the corruption. It could go far up the chain,” he said. He sounded weary.

“What happens then?” she asked.

“We play whack-a-mole, but I want to make sure you’re safe while I’m busy.”

“Why wouldn’t I be safe?” she asked.

“I have a gut feeling that the Tower could be a target,” he said. “Tony’s money and his tech alone are a huge draw, but add in Jane’s work and the idiots who think they could use Thor’s hammer? You’re living on a powder keg, sweetheart, and I’m sitting here, waiting for the spark. You’re the most vulnerable person there. I’m afraid--I’m afraid,” he began.

“That I’d be the first person killed because I’m just Jane’s assistant to outsiders?” Darcy asked. It was a thought she’d had herself. “I’m the most expendable on paper.”

“I’ve had worse thoughts, baby. If they knew how much Jane loves you, they could keep you alive to motivate her properly. Hell, everybody there likes you. You’d be an excellent hostage. What if the shit hits the fan and I can’t get to you fast enough? So, we’re making a fucking plan,” he said, his voice twitching. She nodded. “I’d rather you be alone, honestly. You’re probably safer without the billionaire, the spies, and the Norse god,” he said. “Don’t tell anybody, do a runner, come wait for me.”

“You want me to come here?” she said.

“Yes. The minute I text you a code word, you get your ass here. Sit tight. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going. Smash your phone en route, lose it, whatever. It could be traced,” he said. “I’ll send a local friend to get you. His name is Monroe. We’ve known each other forever, so I trust him more than the New York office agents. Anyone else shows up, hit them and run.”

“Can I bring Jane?” she asked.

“Yes, if she’s with you, but if she’s not, don’t use your phone to contact her. Come here instead. Monroe can get you two together someplace safe later. It’s better if you avoid using phones until I give you the all-clear.”

“Okay,” she said.

“You’re not going to yell at me?” he asked, looking surprised. “I expected more yelling.”

“Excuse me, I tased Thor, survived two alien invasions, and live with Tony Stark, you think finding out terrorists might use SHIELD tech to get Tony’s suit is gonna shock me?” she asked him.

He laughed. “I shouldn’t have underestimated you and your tolerance for insanity,” he said. “This is why I love you, Darcy Lewis.”

She crawled into his lap and hugged him. “Is this why you were sad that day in Memphis and wouldn’t tell me why?” she asked softly, running her fingers through his hair.

He closed his eyes and smiled a little, leaning into her touch. “You can read me too well,” he said. “I might have rushed you into matrimony so I could be happy for a minute.”

“Are you afraid you won’t make it?” she asked him. “Is it that bad?”

“Maybe. I can be a lot cooler under pressure if I know my wife will be waiting for me on the other side,” he said, grinning. “Let’s go play with the cache of hidden weapons and stuff.”

“What’s the code word?” she asked.

“How ‘bout vanilla?” he asked. “For old times’ sake.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title inspiration/mood: Lana Del Rey's "Queen of Disaster" for Darcy; Del Rey's "Serial Killer" for Brock.
> 
> Brock and Jack are, of course, talking about The Long, Hot Summer. In my headcanon, Brock has been watching it on his phone while they work and screwing with Jack by calling him "Jody Varner" (the less favored/unlucky son of Orson Welles' 'dangerous old man' character in the movie) for weeks now. Relevant clip 1: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qTa5iKsbAno  
> Relevant clip 2: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bNdddrIe6dQ
> 
> Thank you for all your lovely comments and support!


	26. Come And See Me Through The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane thinks security prep is Brock's love language.
> 
> *I own nothing.

“Does Thor ever talk about security with you?” Darcy asked Jane in the lab the next day. Jane and Bruce were working on something again.

“Not really. I think Mjolnir does all the planning for him. What weird secret agent security thing did Brock teach you now?” Jane asked, looking over at Darcy with a smile.

“Weird security thing?” Bruce asked curiously.

“He teaches me stuff sometimes,” Darcy said, “in case of emergency. It’s kind of his weird hobby.”

“I think it qualifies as a love language for him, at this point,” Jane said. “The other day, he taught her how to do secret messages with her email drafts folder. Apparently, that’s how some terrorist groups in Afghanistan pass messages now and the military found out about it.”

“How does that work?” Bruce asked, confused.

“You have an email account and both parties know the password, so they draft emails and never send them, just leave them in the drafts folder for the other person to find,” Darcy said.

“So, of course, we gave each other our passwords for the Stark email we don’t use,” Jane said, “so we can be badass secret message ladies, too. I can write ‘Darcy, get milk, we’re all out’ and no one will know.” Bruce laughed.

“I won’t know either, since I never check that email,” Darcy said.

“Don’t tell Tony you don’t use his email system,” Bruce said. Darcy laughed. Tony _would_ pout. He wanted his people to use Stark stuff all the time. He had a weird feud with Bill Gates and Steve Jobs and whoever owned Hotmail, probably.

“What crazy thing is Brock teaching you now?” Jane asked. Darcy hesitated; Brock didn’t want anyone to know about their safe house conversation, but Jane went into her purse all the time. Darcy really didn’t like hiding things from Jane and she’d see the Taser Rod eventually.

“He gave me a taser stick thingamajig as a wedding present,” Darcy said. “It’s got a slightly terrifying voltage and I love it.”

“What are you going to call it?” Jane asked.

“Something retro and feminine, since it’s so phallic,” Darcy said. “Like Lucille, but not, since Lucille is my first born taser.”

“Priscilla?” Bruce offered. “Since he proposed at Graceland?”

“Bruce! You’re a genius, that’s perfect. This is why you’ll make an excellent second husband for me,” Darcy said. 

“Lucille and Priscilla. I like the sound of it,” Jane said, nodding. “My taser nieces have a good mama.”

“Bruce, you can be their godfather for the time being,” Darcy said.

“Until you get divorced in Reno,” Bruce joked.

“Kids, this is Uncle Bruce, he’ll be staying with us for awhile, be nice,” Jane said in a low voice. Darcy laughed.

“Married in Vegas, Divorced in Reno,” Darcy said. “It really sounds like a showgirl’s memoir title.”  

 

After Darcy made sure Thor spirited Jane away for dinner, she found Brock. He was sipping a beer and answering emails on her sofa. “I’m sorry I left you alone all day,” Darcy said, flopping down next to him. He pulled her close and tucked her head under his chin.

“It’s okay, baby. I spent most of the day running SHIELD errands, so this doesn’t even count as time off. I re-stocked your fridge, too. You’re gonna have steak for dinner tonight,” he said.

“Oh, you’re amazing. I wanna pinch you to make sure you’re real,” she said.

“Pinch away, sweetheart. I’ve got some places you might want to try first,” he said. He grinned at her lazily and held his arms out.

Grinning back at him, she reached over and pinched him innocently on the cheek like a grandma. He laughed and a second later, he had flipped her over on the sofa. He held her down on her back and put one hand behind her thigh where it rested against the outside of his hip.

“Reversal of fortune, sweetheart,” he said, smiling. He leaned down, so close his hair brushed her forehead and his mouth brushed hers, and whispered, “you gonna yield to me now?”

“I won’t surrender,” she said. “I’m a stubborn woman.”

“Good,” he said, “all the fun’s in the fight. If I win, I cook you dinner.”

He won. She objected that tickling someone into sex might be cheating and she ought to cook instead--just on principle--but he argued that technicalities didn’t matter, just results.  


“Leaving me again? Always one foot out the door,” she said sleepily, later that night. It was 3am and he was getting dressed at the foot of her--their--bed. He laughed, but didn’t look at her. He was tying his boots.

“Baby, everything I do is for you,” he said seriously.

“I shouldn’t tease you, I’m sure your commute is hell and I bet Fury isn’t too happy with you being back and forth, either,” she said, sitting up. She sighed.

“Fury’s never happy. Don’t hold that over your own head. Besides, I’m exactly where I want to be in life,” he said. “Fury ain’t gonna keep me away from you. We’ll make it work.”

 

*******

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Steve, I wanted to thank you for the pastel of the Wonder Wheel at Coney Island. It’s perfect. You are so talented.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** And I’m so sad that we fought before I left and now you’re in DC and I can’t apologize to you in person and tell you how beautiful it is. I love it.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** I hung it in my room, so it’s the first thing I see in the morning. See!  [photo]

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** I miss seeing your ridiculously pretty face and the Biceps of Freedom and Justice ‘round here, too. Take care. I love you. Jane and Thor send their love, too.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** I’m just going to text you until you reply, you know that, right? I can text babble just like I talk, Steve. I’m a relentless texting ninja.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** You were working on this when we had that fight, weren’t you?

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** I feel like a rat, like _quel rat_ , Steve. Wait, you probably don’t know that reference. It’s from _Breakfast at Tiffany’s._ Just know that having Audrey Hepburn call you a rat is the worst thing ever and that’s how I feel about myself. I yelled at you. I have FEEEEEEELINGS of guilt, Steve.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Has anyone ever told you that you kinda look like George Peppard? [photo]

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** This is my guilty face (+ the side of Jane’s ear!) [photo]

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** It’s been over 48 hours.  Don’t make me start sending you music, Steve.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** I’m listening to a lot of The Secret Sisters lately. I like “Rattle My Bones” [link] and “Tennessee Me” [link]. Also, Johnny Cash. All the Johnny Cash.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Just in case you hear anything, Bruce had a little bit of an episode today in the lab, but everything’s okay. It turns out the Other Guy is a real softy, too. He ate all my push pops and let me put stickers on him. He really likes your Captain America stickers. And gold stars, for some reason? [photo]

**Kid from Brooklyn:** I’m on a mission. Couldn’t reply. It was my fault, not yours.

**Kid from Brooklyn:** The fight, I mean. The not replying too.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** OH THANK GOD, I THOUGHT YOU WERE NEVER GOING TO SPEAK TO ME AGAIN.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** I’ll stop harassing you now. It’s probably a federal crime to text Captain America this frequently.

**Kid from Brooklyn:** You don’t have to stop texting me.

**Kid from Brooklyn:** The Tennessee song was real nice.

  
  


***

**Kid from Brooklyn:** Was she really okay during Bruce’s episode? She’s acting like it’s fine, but she wasn’t downplaying it so I wouldn’t be upset, was she?

**Kid from Brooklyn:** Have I made it so she won’t come to me when there’s an actual situation because I’ve been dumb about training?

**Red-Headed Woman:** Probably. But there was no problem.

**Red-Headed Woman:** I am glad you are having this moment of clarity. Finally.

**Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **The Other Guy loves her as much as Bruce. It’s really adorable. She was sad we didn’t have enough glitter nail polish to do all his nails.

**Kid from Brooklyn:** That’s a relief. Thanks, Jane.

**Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **I think she misses you, Steve.

**Kid from Brooklyn:** I don’t know how to respond to that.

**Red-Headed Woman:** A clever man would maintain the relationship. Some marriages end.

**Kid from Brooklyn:** You want me to root for a divorce? I wouldn’t wish that unhappiness on her.

**Red-Headed Woman:** I could make him disappear.

**Red-Headed Woman:** They would not even find the tips of his toes.

**Red-Headed Woman:** Or make it look like an accident?

**Agent Buff Arms:** You could swoop in to comfort the grieving widow. Heroically. I like this plan.

**Master of the Universe:** Like what’s his name and Liz Taylor. Princess Leia’s dad?

**Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Eddie Fisher.

**Agent Buff Arms:** Commence Operation Eddie Fisher, Nat.

**Kid from Brooklyn:** NO. DO NOT.

 

***

**Kid from Brooklyn:** Darce, are you awake?

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Yeah. I’m awake and eating Chinese alone. Jane crashed from a Science! bender a few minutes ago.

**Kid from Brooklyn:** Can I call you? Do you feel like talking?

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Of course! [smile emoji]

 

She answered on the first ring. “What’s shakin, Steve?” she asked. He huffed out a soft laugh.

“It’s the craziest thing, Darce,” he said. “I was listening to those ladies you like, the Secret Sisters?” His voice sounded almost excited.

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “You like them?”

“Yeah, and Darce, listen to this,” he said. She could hear music through the phone. “That apple and pears folk song? My mother used to hum that tune around the house.”

“Oh, wow, Steve,” she said.

“She was from Ireland,” Steve said. “I hadn’t even thought about that in, well, it feels like a million years ago, you know? Brought it all back to me. She hummed it all the time. Sang it in Gaelic and English, on and off.”

“What was she like?” Darcy asked. “You feel like talking about her?”

 

He did. He told her all about Sarah Rogers. That she spoke Gaelic often and he wished he’d written more of her proverbs and little habits down somewhere, so he could look them up again. How she’d grown up in County Cork, in a family full of stubborn, hard-headed, soft-hearted people. She’d been a Sullivan before her marriage to his father. How green everything was and how she’d missed that green in Brooklyn.

“The town she was from, Coolea, is up in the mountains, near the source of a river called the Sullane,” he said. “She used to tell me that everyone spoke the Irish language up there, sang all the old songs. It was a remote place. ‘Cork makes rebels, Steven, but Coolea makes pure-hearted Irishmen,’ she used to say.”

“What did she mean?” Darcy asked.

“I don’t know. I’m still not entirely sure! Later on, I figured out she meant that Cork was full of Fenians and Irish nationalists--Cork’s famous for that, famous for politics--but that mountain people held onto their traditions and the old ways.”

“You know, somebody probably has photos and videos of Coolea online, Steve,” Darcy suggested gently. “You could look it up, if you want to see it? I’d like to see it, too.”

 

They stayed up half the night, sending each other Youtube videos and photos. Steve found one of musicians playing a Coolea jig. Darcy found a video of someone playing the same jig on a tiny accordion. Steve laughed until he cried.

“Darce,” Steve said, as they were both nodding off on the phone, “I think the internet is a wonderful invention, I do, but so..so strange, you know? Who is in charge out there?” His voice was sleepy.

“The internet, Steven Grant Rogers, is proof that God loves us, but also that he or she has a weird sense of humor,” Darcy said authoritatively. She’d spent a lot of time thinking about this in New Mexico. She’d watched a video of a hamster on a piano eating popcorn while she was sober and bored and had an epiphany (Jane and Erik had been Science!-ing). She loved that little hamster. She thought he might be a metaphor for something important. Also, his little face stuffed with popcorn was adorable.

“Yeah?” Steve asked, sounding perplexed. “You seem awfully certain, Darce.”

“You’ve met Thor, Steve. Gods are weird people,” she said. “Lovely, but weird.” He started laughing and somehow, it turned hysterical.

“Darce, you gave me your church giggles,” he said quietly, before he finally started snoring in her ear.

 

Darcy secretly ordered Steve some internet-famous Coolea cheese and had it overnighted to his apartment as a surprise. Then she crawled into bed and fell asleep to the sound of his snoring. She’d left her phone on, in case he woke up and remembered anything about Sarah.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title inspiration/mood: The Secret Sisters' "Tennessee Me." Steve loves it. The folk song he remembers is their cover of "Do You Love An Apple?"
> 
> I couldn't find a specific Irish birthplace for Sarah Rogers in canon/online, so the stuff about Sarah Rogers is stuff that sounded cool to me. Apologies if Sarah was really a County Mayo girl and I've missed it. 
> 
> Thanks for all your lovely kudos and comments.


	27. I See A Band of Angels And They're Comin' After Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief stop before the train gets rolling.
> 
>  
> 
> *I own nothing.

“You cried over cheese?” Sam asked him as they jogged together the next evening.

“I’m not explaining it right,” Steve said. “It’s not just any cheese. It’s from the town where my mother was born. She sent it to me as a surprise. Overnight.”

“It’s sweet,” Sam said. “But a little weird.”

“She is not weird,” Steve said defensively. “She is _wonderful._ Funny and smart and…”

“Married to somebody else?” Sam prompted. Steve groaned.

“I hate his face. I can’t stand to see him at work now. Somebody congratulated him in the elevator the other day and asked how they were doing the long distance thing? Do you know what he said?” Steve said.

“Yeah?” Sam asked.

“He said he missed his ball and chain occasionally, but they were making it work. Everyone laughed. Like it was so funny,” Steve grumbled.

“Please do not punch that man in an elevator, Steve,” Sam said. “You cannot punch people at work.”

“Something about him worries me,” Steve said. “Why’s he not with her all the time?”

“Two career couples are a thing now, Pop Pop,” Sam said.

“I hate when you call me Pop Pop,” Steve said.

“Uh-huh,” Sam said.  


 

***  


When he was on the phone with Darcy again--he’d called to thank her that night, it was only polite, he told himself--Steve gingerly brought up recent events.

“Why did you text me all those times?” he asked. “Most people would have thanked me once and never talked to me again after the fight we had. Not threatened me with music.” He laughed softly.

“I dunno,” Darcy said. “I just felt bad. And you’d given me this beautiful drawing and I loved it. It’s what I do with Jane when we have disagreements. Jane calls it my “hurricane of love” after this part of the movie _Elizabethtown_ where one character tries to cheer another character up?”

“A hurricane of love? What is a hurricane of love?” Steve asked, his eyebrows near his hairline. He would not let his mind wander in certain directions on the phone with Darcy.

“In the context of the movie, it’s being surrounded by your family and fed lots of southern food. But I just badger Jane or Tony and give them brownies until they talk to me and tell me what’s wrong. I had this idea that you were in DC, probably upset about it, and it would be worse not to talk to you. Especially since you were moving to an apartment by yourself and there wouldn’t be anyone to cheer you up. At least, I wasn’t sure there was,” she said.

“Yeah,” Steve said, laughing, “it’s just me and the four walls here.” He felt slightly relieved about the hurricane of love thing.

“Also, I really love the Wonder Wheel,” she said. Steve smiled to himself. 

“I’m glad. Hey, can we we watch that movie together, if you don’t mind?” Steve asked. “I miss watching movies with you.”

“Really?” Darcy asked. She sounded surprised. “Yeah, okay. That would be really nice.”

“Am I going to like this one as much as the ballroom dancing one?” he asked.

“Maybe? It’s definitely the Fran of Cameron Crowe movies for me. Everybody likes his shiny, flawless movies-- _Say Anything, Almost Famous--_ but I like this one better. It’s a little bit awkward and weird, but it’s special to me,” Darcy said softly.

 

They reached the part of _Elizabethtown_ where Kirsten Dunst talked about her always-absent boyfriend. It made Steve have another thought, one that didn’t sit well with him. He fidgeted.

“Darce, there’s something else I want to ask you,” Steve said quietly. “Why aren’t you with your husband?”

“Steve, he’s working in DC, just like you. He’s committed to being a STRIKE team leader. He’s worked hard to get there and doesn’t want to give up his job,” Darcy said. “We’ll live together full-time later.”

“That doesn’t seem right to me,” Steve said softly. “A married couple ought to be together. Want to be together.”

“Are you implying that I should leave my darling Jane and go sit in DC by myself because I’m a married woman now? Brock knows Jane is my platonic lifemate,” she said, sounding amused. “He’s been very clear about not separating us. Plus, I don’t think she would let him. Thor would get Mew Mew. There would be an incident.”

 

“No, wait,” Steve said, “Moment of Clarity, Darce.”

Moment of Clarity was their new thing to give Steve a chance to reassemble his sentences when they went awry somehow.

“I don’t mean it that way. I meant, I just think there’s--look, if you were my wife, there ain’t no STRIKE team that could hold me down,” he said. “I’d have transferred to the New York office already.”

“Steve--” Darcy began, then stopped. “Wait, ‘ain’t no STRIKE team that could hold you down’? Did you just steal that from Johnny Cash? Have you been listening to Johnny Cash since I mentioned him the other day?” she asked.

“Maybe,” Steve said, smiling. “You tell me. Don’t you know? You married the man in black, didn’t you?”

“Don’t you sass me, Captain Rogers,” she told him. “I can feel your sass right through this telephone.” He laughed.  

  


***

“You thinking about her?” Sam asked, as he and Steve were having dinner the next night.

“Maybe. How’d you know?” Steve asked.

“You get this dreamy look. You’re grinning. Nothing in this place ought to make you that happy,” Sam said. Steve sighed.

“Feels wrong to think this much about a married woman,” he admitted. “Nat’s been making jokes about making her husband disappear. At least, I hope they’re jokes.” Sam laughed.

“One day, I want to meet this Natasha,” he said.

“I could set you up,” Steve said, grinning wickedly. It would serve Nat right.

 

Steve was already thinking of reasons to call Darcy when he ran into his neighbor in the hallway. “Hi, Kate,” he said. She was carrying her laundry. 

“If you want, you're welcome to use mine? Cheaper than the one in the basement,” he offered. 

“No, that’s all right,” the blonde woman said. She'd just finished a shift at the hospital, she told him. “Oh, but I think you left your stereo on.” 

He hadn't left his stereo on.

  


Steve never got to call Darcy that night. Nick Fury was waiting in his apartment and he had a hellhound on his trail: the Winter Soldier.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title inspiration/mood tracks: Robert Johnson's Hellhound on My Trail and Johnny Cash's Ain't No Grave (Can Hold My Body Down)
> 
> Thanks for all your lovely comments!


	28. My Old Man Is A Bad Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone hit the elevator button for me?

Jane and Darcy were having a quiet morning of Science! in the lab when both of their phones buzzed at the same time. It was a message from Clint, whereabouts currently unknown, according to Jarvis. The message had been flagged as medium-high priority.

 

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Heard from an old SHIELD buddy that someone tried to take out Fury in DC. You heard anything?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** I’ll text Brock.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Nat and Steve are in DC right now, Clint. Has anyone heard from them?

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Nat’s gone radio silent, but she’d do that if she was working higher priority security for Fury. That’s typical for her. I swear she does it just to be mysterious and shit. Cap?

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **He and Brock are usually together, right?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** I think so? I’ll ask if he’s seen either of them.

 

“Do you think we should be worried?” Darcy asked Jane curiously.

“I bet lots of people have tried to kill Nick Fury,” Jane said from across the lab. Her voice was definite.

“You mean you’ve wanted to kill him?” Darcy said.

“Several times,” Jane said.

“Jane, you gotta let the duct tape thing go, it’s been years,” Darcy said. “It’s bad for your acid reflux. You know it gets worse when you talk about this stuff.”

“They don’t even make that galaxy print anymore,” Jane said mournfully. “That one-eyed SHIELD bastard took my whole stash. The new galaxy print is so much uglier.”

Darcy snorted.

“I know it’s all in a box in a damn warehouse somewhere. Do you think Brock would find it for us? Unless Fury is using it himself,” Jane said.

“I bet he only uses duct tape that matches his eye patch,” Darcy said.

 

***

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Are you okay? Clint texted us to say there is a rumor going around that someone tried to kill Nick Fury yesterday?

 **Agent Gelato:** I’m fine. Can’t talk too much shop directly on the phone. You sit tight for me, okay? You and Jane should be fine. Nothing to worry about on your end. Let you know if anything changes.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Are Nat and Steve with you?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Also, Jane wants to know if you can find her duct tape from New Mexico in whatever warehouse you jack-booted thugs stuck it in?

 **Agent Gelato:** I’ll make some calls for her.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** You're the best.

 **Agent Gelato:** I got eyes on Cap right now, sweetheart. Gotta go. Need to catch him in the elevator.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Tell Steve I said hey! 

 **World's Okayest Assistant:**  I love you. [heart emoji]

 **Agent Gelato:** Love you too, sweetheart. Talk soon.

 

 

***

Steve was thinking about the USB drive when the elevator doors opened. He needed to get back to the hospital before Pierce sent someone to look closely at the hospital security footage and discovered where he’d stashed the drive.

“Cap,” Brock Rumlow said to Steve as he joined him in the elevator.

“Rumlow,” Steve replied coolly.

“Evidence response found some fibers on the roof they want us to see. You want me to get the tac team ready?” Rumlow asked.

“No, let’s wait and see what it is first.”

“Right,” Rumlow said.

When he turned away, Steve saw one of the team had his hands ready on his weapon.

“I’m sorry about what happened with Fury. That’s messed up what happened to him,” Rumlow said, turning to glance at Steve. He seemed to be studying the space.

“Thank you,” Steve said, thinking quickly. He noticed another agent sweating despite the cool of the elevator.

 

The elevator slowly filled with STRIKE Alpha agents. They’d sent in enough men to surround him. “Before we get started, does anyone want to get out?” Steve asked. For a moment, no one moved. Rollins was the first to pull out a weapon.

 

***

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Brock is with Steve.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **That’s good, right?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** He told me to sit tight here with you. I’m nervous Jane. He was serious. He’s never this serious.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Shit. That probably means the story is true. Rumor mill says it was fake DC Metro cops with high grade weaponry. Y’all stay safe until we’ve sorted this out. If I come back into town, I might go out of cell range while I’m traveling. Stick close to Thor or Rumlow if stuff starts to get hinky, okay? If Nat and Steve are working, they’ve probably dropped their phones. Did Rumlow say he’d be in touch?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Okay. He said I’d hear from him soon.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Got it.

 **Master of the Universe:** You hear anything else weird, tell me immediately. I’ll get back there ASAP.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Will do.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** I’d feel better if we heard from Nat.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Don’t let your husband hear you saying that, he might get jealous.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Like there’s a straight man alive who doesn’t ship their wife with Nat.

 **Master of the Universe:** Also their girlfriends.

 **The World’s Most Amazing CEO:** Tony no.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Hi, Pepper! [photo of Bruce, Jane, & Darcy in the lab]

 **The World’s Most Amazing CEO:** When I come back to New York, it will be too see the nice Science! people and Steve, not you other drunk hooligans.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** The Drunk Hooligans would be a great name for a bowling team.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Nat would think that was funny, y’all.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **How do you know when she’s laughing?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** She lifts her left eyebrow 1/16th of an inch.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Yup.

 **Master of the Universe:** Be careful. I want my people to stay safe, okay? Use the panic rooms in the Tower if anything happens.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Oooh, I just got the chills when you used your serious texting voice, Tony. You sounded like Charlton Heston playing Moses.

 **Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: **Bruce says the water in his lab just spontaneously parted when you said “my people.”

 **Master of the Universe:** Sometimes I get really upset with Mrs. Gelato for teaching him how to sarcasm.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** It’s the tragic error of my life, really.

  
  
***

 

Rumlow was the last STRIKE team member conscious in the elevator. Breathing heavily, Steve looked at him. Rumlow held his arms up defensively. The taser stick in his hand sparked.

“Whoa, Big Guy,” he said, using a calming tone. “I just want you to know, Cap, this isn’t personal,” Rumlow said. He swung directly at Steve’s head. Steve deflected several blows and they grappled for control. He was holding one of Rumlow’s arms aloft when the other man spoke again.

“Also, the wife says hi,” Rumlow said. “She’ll probably miss you, but I’ll take good care of her.” Then he jammed the taser in his other hand against Steve’s ribs, right under his heart, and shocked him. Repeatedly. 

Wrenching himself free, Steve hit Rumlow and threw him into the ceiling. He landed on the heap of bodies below.

“It kinda feels personal,” Steve said in the silent elevator before he escaped.

***

“Nat, what about Darcy? She’s in danger. We need to tell her that Rumlow is after us,” Steve said urgently. “She doesn’t know.” He’d gone back to the hospital and she’d been waiting for him.

“I would be happy to do that, if there was a way to do so that did not put us and her in more danger,” Nat said calmly. “The Tower is very safe, Steve. He is pursuing us. He will follow us. To contact her, we risk revealing our location. It is not wise. He has probably bugged her phone.”

“I don’t agree--” he began, but Nat cut him off.

“If your first act is to contact her, he will know exactly how important she is to you. Do you want him to use her as bait? He could hand her directly to the Winter Soldier to draw you out. Do not be foolish.”

Steve made a low, aggressive noise in the back of his throat. Nat looked at him for a long moment.

“Fine, you’re right,” Steve said. “But as soon as we can, we alert her or send someone to go get her.”

“Did you think I would not? Just remember that she is much safer in the Tower than anywhere else,” Nat said.

 

***

 

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Called you at our usual time and your phone went straight to voicemail. If you’re trying to make me like you more by dodging my calls again, it won’t work. We’re married now. I might be legally obligated to love, honor, and cherish you, but the vows didn’t say I had to like you all the time.

 

[1 hour later]

 

 **Agent Gelato:** I am so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t forget, I just couldn’t get to a phone. Had a little setback on a secondary project with Cap at headquarters and it knocked me on my ass for a bit. Playing catch up now. Might have to pull an all-nighter with Rollins and the rest of the team to track down what we need, but we’ve got it covered. Don’t worry. I’ll be back to you soon.

 **Agent Gelato:** Oh, I told Cap you said hello today. I think he probably misses your little gang of rascals up in New York about now.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** No, he doesn’t. None of us have heard from him. I even sent emojis. Nada. Zilch.

 **Agent Gelato:** Hmm. I thought his mama raised him better than that. I guess he doesn’t love you as much as I thought he did.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Phffft, I think his true love is running.

 **Agent Gelato:** Don’t tell me you weren’t a little curious when I didn’t answer, though. I know exactly what you like, _gattina_.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Ugh, stop being so hot when you’re so stupidly far away from me.

 **Agent Gelato:** I won’t be far away for too long. Play some of that Billie Holiday you like. I’m going to be in a good mood when I get back to you.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title/mood inspiration: Lana del Rey's "Off to the Races."
> 
> Note: I'm unclear on how long the timeline is between Fury's 'death' at Steve's apartment and the end of TWS/fall of SHIELD. 2-3 days? Anyone know? I'm probably going to treat it as a couple of days, unless someone knows. 
> 
> Thanks for all your comments and kudos! Y'all are the best!


	29. Gladly Surrender Myself To You Body & Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Steve & Nat are busy finding out about Hydra....
> 
> *I own nothing.

 

 **Agent Gelato:** I’m missing you right now, sweetheart.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** How is everything going?

 **Agent Gelato:** Work is giving me trouble. Rollins is being a pain in my ass. Gets moody like a damn child when we pull overtime. I had to stop at a mall to pick something up. Couldn’t find exactly what we needed. You know how I feel about malls.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** LOL. You hate them with a passion. Are Nat and Steve with you?  

 **Agent Gelato:** Don’t worry about them. They’re a little ahead of me on a different job, but all of us will catch up with each other, sweetheart. When I see them, I’ll tell them you said hi. Should be very soon. I love you.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Love you, too. Sorry you had to go to a mall.

 **Agent Gelato:** That corner office job on the high floor can’t come fast enough. Gonna get me a white shirt and a black tie and be home for dinner with my wife every night.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Sure you will.

 **Agent Gelato:** You’ve made a pet of me, Miss Clara Varner. I’m a tame wolf these days.

 **Agent Gelato:** What you listening to now?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Billie Holiday. I follow instructions.

 **Agent Gelato:** That’s my wife. Listen to “Body and Soul” for me?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Of course.

 

***

 

 **Agent Gelato:** Need to delay our usual phone call tonight. Now it looks like Rollins and I might be going to New Jersey to rendezvous with some ex-coworkers for SHIELD. I’m sorry. It can’t be helped. Wish I could hear your voice.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** New Jersey and malls. Your two favorite places, babe.

 **Agent Gelato:** All I do all day is chase bullshit, try not to kill Rollins, and think about you, sweetheart. Have I told you lately that you’re my one and only love?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Yes, but say it again.

 **Agent Gelato:** When I get back to you, I’ll say a lot of things. Very slowly.

 **Agent Gelato:** And don’t think I haven’t noticed that your display name isn’t Mrs. Gelato yet. We gonna talk about that.

 

***

 

 **Agent Gelato:** Where are you right now, sweetheart?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Running an errand for Jane, getting coffee, then going back to the Tower. I just saw on my phone that there was an explosion at Fort LeHigh last night?!

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Are you playing whack-a-mole with Rollins and trying to win the teddy bear?

 **Agent Gelato:** We might be setting up the rides. But I’ll get you a real nice teddy bear.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** I had a feeling the fair had arrived as soon as you said the words ‘New Jersey’ and ‘mall.’

 **Agent Gelato:** You know me too well. What’s your situation on the ground?

 **Agent Gelato:** Your platonic lifemate is safe with her Viking, right?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Yup. The Viking, her, me, & the good doctor in residence.

 **Agent Gelato:** Wait, the others are still gone?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Big brother’s still in CA trying to fix things with his lady and my favorite country boy is...wherever he goes. I bet it’s bowling.

 **Agent Gelato:** Shit, that’s a fucking skeleton crew. Viking only carries one passenger with that hammer, too. If something happens...

 **Agent Gelato:** I think I would feel better if you got yourself a vanilla latte at that coffeeshop today. Will you order that for me?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** If you’re sure.

 **Agent Gelato:** I am.

 **Agent Gelato:** One vanilla latte. Throw away the green straw, we’ll get you another one soon. My friend can bring a clean one. He should be there ASAP. You won’t wait too long. I just sent him his fair ticket.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** You already sent him his ticket?

 **Agent Gelato:** Yeah. He’ll meet you within 45 minutes or so. He’ll take you out tonight. You can get in touch with your people later, okay?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** I’ll settle for this vanilla latte, but I’ll want you to bring me more coffee soon, you know that, right? Personally. In your hands.

 **Agent Gelato:** Oh, I’ll get my hands on you soon, sweetheart. Remember your coffee order instructions. Gotta go. Need to call in to the main office at the fairgrounds. I got dibs on playing with the Cyclone today or tomorrow.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Be careful putting those rides together. A man could get hurt and his wife loves him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title/mood inspiration= Billie Holiday's "Body & Soul." All the Billie Holiday, really.
> 
> The Cyclone= Bucky freaking Barnes, of course.
> 
> Thanks for all your lovely kudos, comments, & support.
> 
> (This is the second chapter update for today, 5/30.)


	30. My Happiness Depends on You and Whatever You Decide To Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, it's Monroe, right?

She had one stop to make. “Goodbye, Betty. If everything goes okay, I’ll come back for you baby,” Darcy said quietly to her phone, slipping it into an envelope after she finished pushing several buttons. She stuck the envelope in the little metal mailbox, locked it, and left the building. Then she got on the subway at the nearest stop.

It took Darcy forty-one minutes to reach the safe house--er, safe apartment--in Brock’s old neighborhood. Darcy wondered how many safe houses weren’t technically houses at all. Did you call them something else if it was a condo? First, she went to the weapons stash Brock had left for her in a hidden panel in one of the closets, adding one of the knives to her messenger bag. Thank God she didn’t use a tiny purse.

“Play nice with Lucille and Priscilla, please, and I might name you,” she whispered to the knife, wondering there was any possibility of it being a weird alien knife that might react badly to tasers. He hadn’t warned her and the knife looked normal.

He’d picked her out a waist holster for the lightest and most easily hidden of the Chitauri guns, so she put that on, too. You couldn’t even see it under her shirt. She didn’t think she was up for carrying around any of Brock’s ginormous assault rifles like Patty-freaking-Hearst. That would draw the wrong kind of attention, right? Brock had made it very clear her job was just to get the hell out of town, so he could work without worrying about her.

She sat in one of the flimsy chairs in the half-empty living room, trying to control her breathing and repeating the mantra she’d used since New Mexico, _I can do this, I’m the girl who tasered Thor, I can do this, I’m the girl who tasered Thor, I can do this…._

 

There was a tentative knock at the door. “Brock Rumlow’s wife?” a male voice said, sounding distinctly unlike a SHIELD agent, “uh, your ride is here? I’m Monroe.”

She went to the door and looked out the peephole. A shaggy haired, middle-aged dude in a Hawaiian shirt looked back at her.

“What’s the code, bro?” she asked.

“Graceland?” he said.

“Okay, dude, I’m gonna slowly open this door,” Darcy said. She opened it slowly, one hand firmly on Priscilla. The guy looked at her. She looked at him. Frankly, he looked a little ill-prepared for major terrorist events. He was wearing Tevas sandals. He frowned.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked. “We’re gonna hit a lot of traffic if we don’t hurry up. Brock gave me your bags the other day, they’re already in my car.”

“Let’s go, Monroe, my dude,” she said, feeling less threatened. She thought she could take a guy in sandals and a Hawaiian shirt. “Is that a first name or a last name?”

“Last. My first name’s Armstrong, but nobody calls me that.”

“Sounds like a vacuum cleaner company,” Darcy said, following him out to the street.

“Yeah,” he said, “gum?” He waved a foil packet at her. It said Nicorette on the side. “I’m trying to quit.”

“No, thanks,” Darcy said. “Don’t smoke.”

“Wise life choice,” he said. They got into an dented sedan at the corner. He was either the best undercover SHIELD agent she’d ever seen or that friend everybody had who crashed on their couches and was in constant danger of DUI conviction.

 

***

 

Somewhere in DC, Sam Wilson had already gotten his wish: he’d met that Natasha. He and Steve and the redheaded assassin were going to borrow a pair of wings. Then they were going to find Jasper Sitwell. Eventually--if he lived through this Hydra bullshit--Sam was going to ask Natasha on a date.

 

***

 

An hour after she’d spoken with Brock, Darcy found herself headed out of town in a teal Ford Taurus with guy she’d never met before. Monroe sang along to Dolly Parton’s “Jolene” while she wondered desperately what the hell was going on and if the damn plan would work. She could trust her people, right?

 

“So,” Monroe asked her as they went south, “how did you and Brock meet?”

“He picked me up at work,” Darcy said.

“At SHIELD? Well, you’ve probably seen some shit, no wonder you looked so freaked out when you answered the door.”

“Aliens, man,” she said noncommittally. That was a broad category these days and could mean a lot of things. “You don’t work for SHIELD?”

“God, no,” he said. “They make people wear ties and show up five days in a week. He and I met at the Naval Academy. We were both in the Navy together, too.” Darcy eyed him. He looked sheepish. “I may owe him for life because he helped me avoid a dishonorable discharge when the higher ups discovered I’d had a really great weekend.”

“What kind of great weekend?” Darcy asked suspiciously.

“It showed up when I peed in the cup,” he admitted.

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said, “so, where are we going, JJ Cale?”

“Hey, I love that guy,” Monroe said. “Brock told me you liked music. We are going to Fayetteville, West Virginia, Mrs. Brock.”

“What’s in Fayetteville?” she asked.

“Nothing, that’s the idea, you’ll be safe there,” Monroe said. “Hey, what’s your favorite JJ Cale song?”

“Don’t ask me to pick. I like the whole _Travel-Log_ album,” Darcy said.

“Righteous,” Monroe said, nodding.

 

Darcy tried not to worry at the hem of her shirt. She couldn’t stop thinking about her people: Brock, Jane, Thor, Bruce, Tony, Nat, Steve, even Larry the night security guard. Would everyone be okay?

 

“Hey, do you have a clean phone?” she asked Monroe.

“Brock told me it would be waiting for us in the safe house in West Virginia,” Monroe said. “He said not to use my phone at all unless it’s a really bad emergency and it matters less if we’re blown.”

“Like aliens in the sky kind of emergency?” Darcy asked.

“Yup. Here, you can hold onto mine. I tend to lose things,” he said ruefully. He reached into his pocket and handed something to her.

“A flip phone?” Darcy asked.

“I kept losing them at women’s houses,” he admitted. “And bars, probably. The sequence of events can be a little fuzzy.”

“You’re kidding,” she said.

“One time at the academy I woke up at a girl’s house and we couldn’t find my shoes. Brock still tells everybody about the time he picked me up barefoot at that payphone,” Monroe.

“Why didn’t you use her phone?” Darcy asked.

“She was really upset that I called her the wrong name. We’re friends now though. Her name turned out to be Lisa.”

 

***

In the Tower, Jane looked up at the ceiling and said, “Jarvis, where is Darcy right now? She was supposed to be back over thirty minutes ago.”

“I’m afraid Mrs. Rumlow’s whereabouts are currently unknown,” the AI said. At Jane’s squeak of surprise and alarm, Jarvis continued, “however, she has asked me to inform you that Protocol 22 is active.”

“Oh, shit. Jarvis, get Thor. Get Tony on video feed. Get everybody you can get,” Jane said, running to the laptop on her desk.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title/mood inspiration: Dolly Parton's "Jolene," of course. Mostly because I love it.
> 
> Thanks for all your fantastic comments & kudos. Y'all are the best!


	31. Them Chains, Them Chains, They're About To Drag Me Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> catch-22 (noun)  
> a dilemma or difficult circumstance from which there is no escape because of mutually conflicting or dependent conditions.  
> "a catch-22 situation"
> 
> synonyms: dilemma, quandary, vicious circle

Jarvis got Tony into the lab via video feed. The AI couldn’t find Clint, but Jane told Jarvis to keep looking and tell Clint to stop somewhere safe as soon as he was in range and not come back to the Tower. Thor and Bruce were watching Jane with concern, as she hovered over her laptop, scanning the screen.

“Tell him to go to Lucky’s place,” Thor offered. “He will know.”

“Lucky?” Tony asked. “What are we looking at Jane?”

“Darcy’s gone. Jarvis, can you ping her phone for me and tell me it’s last location?” Jane asked.

“It appears to be stationary at a private mailbox store near Park Ave. and 49th St.,” the AI said.

“I’ll send someone,” Tony said quickly.

“It’s just her phone, she won’t be there,” Jane said. “We have a plan. It’s part of the plan.”

“The Stark drafts box,” Bruce said, looking over Jane’s shoulder. “She left you a message.”

“Uh-huh. Okay,” Jane said. “Darce has activated Protocol 22, which means that she left of her own free will; the phone is a signal. She wants us to evacuate the Tower ASAP. Go somewhere safe that no one knows about and evacuate here and the new Avengers facility. We have to make it look like there’s no issue, Tony, but clear out all the employees. We’re in danger. Something big is up at SHIELD. They’ve got some new weapons system, Brock told her. He was worried people were after it and the Tower was a target, she told me the other day.”

“Can you back up and explain it all to me? How do you know she’s not with her phone?” Tony asked.

“We worked it all out after the second alien thing: if somebody grabs you, try to hang onto your phone for dear life and wait for rescue. If you need to drop the phone so it won’t be tracked, leave it in an envelope at a prearranged PO Box, so that the other person knows you’re going somewhere safe and haven’t been kidnapped. When Brock taught her the email drafts thing, we agreed to use it, too,” Jane said.

“Why?” Tony said.  
  
“Because Darcy and I don’t keep secrets, Tony. It’s a rule,” Jane said. “Secrets are stupid and get you killed.”

“She thinks _what_ is going on SHIELD? Whack-a-mole?” Bruce asked, reading over Jane’s shoulder. “Workplace seminar?”

“SHIELD’s got a mole problem, doesn’t it?” Tony said, horrified at his realization. “Someone supposedly tries to kill Fury, Nat and Steve go silent and disappear, and Rambo suddenly gets Itty-Bitty out of town?”

“Uh-huh,” Jane said. “It all adds up.”

“Oh. Oh. They’ve got a big new toy and somebody else wants it,” Bruce said. "Damn."

“If Itty-Bitty says to evacuate, we evacuate,” Tony said. “I’m coming back and bringing the suit.”

“Okay, we’ve got an idea for making it look less suspicious, Tony.”

 

***

_Dear Janey,_

_Brock called today to say the fair is here, just like I suspected when he went to NJ. They’re playing whack-a-mole already. He wants me out of town and has contacted someone to pick me up. I’m doing it so he won’t be distracted. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be somewhere safe. I have Priscilla and Lucille, too. But if Brock thinks the panic rooms, Bruce, & Thor aren’t strong enough and the Tower isn’t safe, the weapon they’re fighting for must be really bad. Aliens fall from the sky bad. I want all of you out of the pet shop, okay? _

_Please evacuate everything. Everything. Get Tony to make it look as normal as he can, someone’s probably watching him. Remember your workplace seminar joke?_  
  
_Once that’s done and you’re okay, please ask Tony to look for Steve and Nat, too. The last thing Brock told me was that they were working ahead of his team, but he would catch up with them. If they don’t have Alpha for backup yet, they might need Iron Man._

_Love you always,_

_Your Platonic Lifemate_

_Mrs. Gelato_

 

_***_

Somewhere in DC, two men were sitting in a black SUV:

“I can’t wait to get my hands on that fucker,” Jack said, popping his gum.

“Stop popping your damn gum, Rollins, and learn not to take shit so personally,” Brock said. "It makes you sloppy."

“You know where I have bruises from that elevator?” Jack said. “Why are you so fucking calm?”

“The Asset’s on it. Cap’s the kind of guy who only brings a shield to a gunfight. Won’t be too long now,” Rumlow said.

“Then what?” Jack asked.

“Somebody digs a couple of holes, the Asset goes back in the deep freeze, and Pierce goes back into the office. I get to see my wife,” Rumlow said.

“I don’t like domesticated you. You were a lot more fun when you were single,” Jack said.

“Sure. I stabbed more people with you on the weekends,” Rumlow said. “Trying to save that for Monday through Thursday now.”

“Hey, do you still keep that knife in your boot?” Jack asked, curiously. “What does the wife think of that?”

“She wants to name it Louella,” Rumlow said.

  
***

Monroe and Darcy had been on the interstate for several hours when Darcy heard the soothing voice of the local NPR host say the words she’d been waiting for:

“In a surprise announcement from California, billionaire playboy Tony Stark announced that all Stark Industries facilities and buildings nationwide will close for mandatory workplace training in best ethics practices, with a focus on supporting women and ending the culture of sexual harassment in the tech industry. SI CEO Pepper Potts released a statement suggesting this will an important step forward for STEM-focused companies if they hope to retain and develop female talent.

Critics of Mr. Stark, however, have pointed out that an anonymous lawsuit was filed in New York today accusing the well-known playboy of harassing former employees. The respondents, known only as Priscilla Doe and Lucille Doe in the filing, allege that Mr. Stark…”

 

It was all Darcy could do not to whoop with joy. Her people would be safe. 

“You okay?” Monroe asked, seeing her face change.

“Well, it sounds like my boss is about to be sued, but I bet he’ll get this one dismissed. He does that,” she said.

“Rich guys, huh? Hey, you got any Dire Straits on that iPod?” he asked.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title inspiration/mood: Johnny Cash's "I Got Stripes"
> 
> Thank you for all the kind comments and kudos. Y'all


	32. Run From Me, Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversations in safe houses, safe houses all over the land

It was dark and late when Darcy and Monroe finally made it to the safehouse. This time it was an actual house: a nondescript white cottage out on a country road. There was a decent-sized supply of non-perishable food, water, blankets, towels, and toiletries. There were clothes. Brock had even thought to stock her favorite coffee. But there was no tv. And there were no phones.

“He was supposed to leave us phones?” Monroe said, sounding as confused and tired as Darcy felt.

“He was busy with work shit, probably. We’ve got your phone if the situation gets dire. We can buy a burner phone from a gas station or something soon, if this doesn’t blow over quickly,” she said, trying to sound confident. Brock had told her that paying cash for a cheap no-contract phone and using those little prepaid cards was the safest way to contact someone. Barring that, use the draft email trick at a public library or something. Keep contact to a minimum.

In the car, Darcy had decided to treat Monroe like one of her interns: be non-specific about anything critical, but nice. If aliens fell from the sky, then she’d let him know there were terrorist moles in SHIELD and Tony Stark wasn’t currently running a seminar on appropriate workplace physical contact. As it stood, she was increasingly convinced he was just a dude that Brock had known in college and trusted to get her here more than anyone at SHIELD in New York.  

On the other hand, scarily badass Phil Coulson had looked like a really dependable certified public accountant. You just never freaking knew. It was slightly difficult to sleep that night with that thought slithering around in her mind, making everything seem just slightly wrong and strange.

She felt slightly better the next morning, when Monroe hadn’t murdered her in her sleep. Instead, they had coffee and went through the safe house supplies. Brock had ordered her--on this point he’d been scarily serious--to leave the go-bags in the car at all times, if she was ever in the wind. They were supposed to use the inside stuff first.

Then she and Monroe played cards. Monroe told her all kinds of crazy Brock stories about their Naval Academy years, including the time they’d driven all the way to New York to attempt to steal West Point’s mascot and been foiled by mascot security. The Army-Navy rivalry was a much bigger deal than she realized.

  
“You were going to steal a _mule_ from West Point?” she asked. “Where were you going to put it?”

“I had a truck,” Monroe said, looking sheepish. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“From the bottom of how many bottles of tequila?” Darcy joked.

“Oh, no, that was the year I roomed with Creeger. He was from the mountains in North Carolina. Randolph County? His grandpa still made moonshine for fun. We were breathing 200 proof that night,” Monroe said. “I think I could have lit a match by exhaling.”

“What kind of moonshine was it?” Darcy asked, laughing.

“Oh, man, it tasted like peaches. I’m so lucky I’m not dead,” he said. “But you really need to get Brock to teach you to play poker. He has the best fucking poker face of anybody I’ve ever met in life. It is astounding. He just flat out tells you his hand and somehow, convinces you that you think he’s kidding and he can’t be serious, it’s incredible.”

“You still fall for it?” Darcy asked, incredulous. “Even when you know?” He made a face.

“I might still owe him money,” Monroe said. “Technically.”

“I’ll make sure he wipes out your debt if we survive this little adventure,” Darcy promised.

 

That evening, Darcy went and sat in the Taurus under the carport and listened to the public radio station. There was no news that struck her as unusual. Aliens hadn’t fallen from the sky, no one had attacked Stark Tower, and they were even talking about Pepper Potts going on _The View_ to discuss women in the workplace. Everything seemed normal. She sighed with relief and took her blanket back into the house.

Without a television, she had no way of knowing that the three suspects apprehended in that “gang-affiliated drug shooting” in Washington, DC looked suspiciously familiar. She didn’t see the news footage of her husband as he told Jack Rollins to move his gun away from Steve’s head.

 

That night, Monroe’s phone rang.

“Are you going to answer it?” he asked her, looking worried. “Or should I?”

“It’s Brock’s personal cell number,” she said, flipping the phone open. Her hands shook a little. “Hello?” she said quietly.

“Hey, sweetheart, are you doing okay?” he asked.

“We’re doing fine. Are you okay?” she said, feeling an intense wave of relief at the sound of his voice.

“Work has been tough, but we’ll see it through. The other side is more persistent than I thought they’d be. Figured I’d have this all wrapped up by now. I might need another 24 hours or so. You and my buddy getting along?” he asked.  

“I may have promised him that you’d erase his poker debt,” she said, feeling herself tear up. Brock laughed.

“Typical. I let him near you for two days and he’s got you charmed with all his sob stories. He tell you about that time I had to pick him up barefoot? He swears he didn’t bolt because he was afraid of Lisa, but I have my doubts,” Brock said. 

"Uh-huh. I heard about West Point, too," she said. "Lots of Army-Navy trivia." He barked out a laugh. 

"Sweetheart, the next person you see will be me coming to get you, okay? Just stay safe for me," he said. 

"Don't give up the ship," she said softly and she swore she could hear his grin through the phone.

"Never," he said. 

 

He made her promise to stay in the safe house and stay quiet for the next 24 hours.

 

***

 

In a secure location, Tony, Rhodey, Bruce, Jane, and Thor watched the tv crew footage of Steve, Nat, and Sam being arrested in horror. They'd been busy covertly warning other potential targets of any rogue SHIELD weaponry; Rhodey had informed President Ellis. 

 

“What the fuck just happened?” Tony asked. “Did Brock just arrest them?”

“Could it be a covert op?” Bruce asked.

“That didn’t look covert to me,” Rhodey said. “It looked like someone getting the Widow, Captain America, and the other dude out of the way. Do we know the other dude?”

“I think that’s Sam? He’s Steve’s running buddy,” Bruce said.

“Fuck. What do we do?” Tony asked.

“I’m uploading the footage to Darcy’s drafts folder with a warning about Brock. Thor, tell them what you know,” Jane said. “What you told me last night.”

The Asgardian looked weary.

“There is a darkness in Brock. I have always seen it, but I had hoped it would change,” Thor said.

“Fuck. Are you saying he’s a mole or a terrorist? A little late, Point Break,” Tony said.

“It does not work like that,” Thor said. “I cannot tell what he will do, only what he is in essentials.”

***

 

Tony got on the phone with his lawyers. Then he went to another location and video-called Alexander Pierce on a secure line.

“Pierce, I see SHIELD’s been busy today.”

“Mr. Stark, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Pierce asked.

“You feel like explaining to me why you’ve arrested my friends and tell me where you’ve detained them before I throw my many, many lawyers at you? And leak to the media that you’ve arrested Captain America, national icon?” Tony asked.

“I’m afraid I cannot give you any information regarding people that SHIELD has or hasn’t detained, Mr. Stark.”

 

When he ended the call and returned to them, Tony said: “Pierce is involved. He also wants me dead.”

“Tony,” Rhodey said, “aren’t you being a little paranoid?”

“I’ve learned to recognize the look. We need to figure out where they’re holding them and find Darcy,” Tony said. “Thor, get your man on this. I don’t know why we didn’t think of him before.”

The Asgardian nodded and left the room.  
  
“Technically, we thought Darcy was safe before,” Bruce said. “He’s her husband, Tony. Would he really kill her?”

“I’ve sent her the message,” Jane said. “If she gets it, she’ll know not to trust Brock.”

“Will she?” Bruce said softly.

 

***  


While Darcy slept in West Virginia, a culturally significant exhibit at the Smithsonian was vandalized. A ringing phone alerted Tony and Pepper.  


“One of my old military buddies is a consultant for them. Cap’s display suit has been stolen,” Rhodey said.  
  
“What the hell is going on, Rhodey?” Tony asked. “His WWII suit? The one my dad gave to the museum?” Pepper was looking at him with concern. She rubbed his arm comfortingly. He smiled back for a brief second.

“It occurred to me that a suit’s no good without a shield,” Rhodey said. “What did Thor’s buddy say about our mutual acquaintances?”

“It’s a bust, he can’t seem to find anybody. Something about not being able to find those who truly wish not to be found?” Tony said, raking his hand over his eyes. “Asgardians,” Tony said, sighing.

“All is riddle, and the key to a riddle is another riddle?” Rhodey offered. “Emerson.”

“Please don’t torture me with the humanities during a crisis,” Tony said. “Where is everyone? And why don’t they call me? I’m Iron Man, for fuck’s sake.”

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title/mood inspiration: Timber Timbre's "Run from Me," the scariest song in the world.
> 
> Thanks for all the lovely support! Y'all are the best!


	33. The Maddest Kind of Love Is A Love You Know's A Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diners at night, helicarriers in the morning
> 
>  
> 
> *I own nothing

They were wiping the Asset again; his memories were resurfacing. As Pierce and Rumlow exited the vault, the older man spoke quietly, “Rumlow, a word.”

They paused in the hallway. Rollins maintained a discreet distance, looking twitchy at the sounds of the Asset’s screams.

“Yes, sir?” Rumlow said.

“It’s time to pull in Foster. Get her away from the Tower before things get underway tomorrow,” Pierce said. “You have something Foster wants, correct?” Pierce asked.

“I do. Moved an essential part of her lab equipment several days ago,” Rumlow said. “She’ll come pick it up.”

“I hope you’re correct. Don’t worry about separating her from Thor, just get her away from Stark’s building. We’re cutting it closer than I intended with Romanoff and Rogers causing delays and manpower shortages,” Pierce said. “I would have preferred to send a full extraction team earlier.”

“I think I’m correct, sir,” Rumlow said. “Won’t take too long to get Foster out of the Tower. We’re practically already there. No extraction team will be necessary, I can do it myself.”

“Just be back at headquarters in time for the launch.”

“Yes, sir.” Rumlow nodded.

 

When they got out to the car, Rollins looked at him. “You’re okay with Pierce talking about your wife’s buddy like that?” he asked.

“Do I look worried to you?” Rumlow said. “You hungry? Watching Pierce play with the Asset always makes me want scrambled eggs. Let’s hit that all-night diner.”

 

***

“So, what’s your plan to extract Foster? Do you need help?” Jack asked, after they’d ordered.

Brock looked up from the newspaper he’d bought and half-smiled.

“Nope,” he said. “Foster situation got handled days ago. Gonna be just fine. Eat your toast.”

“Really? That Viking has a really big hammer,” Jack said.

“Not a problem, Rollins. Jesus, you’re obsessed with that hammer. I told you already, without the Viking around, the hammer is just a big paperweight. Really big paperweight. He let me try to play with it once,” Rumlow said. “It don’t move unless he’s there.”

“I heard von Strucker thinks he could find a way move it--” Jack began.

“The baron also thinks wearing a damn monocle isn’t a dead giveaway in the year of our Lord two-thousand-fourteen. Why not just hire a brass band to play “Ride of the Valkyries” whenever you enter a room? The man’s dangerously inbred, Rollins, all those aristocrat types are,” Rumlow said, snickering. “If he can move Mjolnir, I’m President Ellis.”  
  
Rollins got quiet. He was thinking about the hammer. He’d been very jealous when he heard Brock had seen the hammer.  
  
“We just need to make it through the launch, Jody Varner,” Brock said. “When the smoke clears, lots of people will be rattled, Foster will need a new secure lab space with the Tower gone, and my wife will feel better living with her husband. The two of them are a set, they go together. Like bacon and eggs." 

Jack looked at him dubiously. "How are you going to extract Foster and be on watch for Rogers?" Brock didn't acknowledge his question.

"Some floors at Triskelion will be wide open once we’ve gotten rid of the dead weight. Perfect space for a shiny new astro lab we can keep tabs on and I’ll get to have lunch with the ball and chain everyday,” Rumlow said. He chuckled to himself.

“What’s so funny?” Jack asked. It still irritated him to be called Jody Varner.

“I’ve been having lots of fun reading about this Tony Stark sexual harassment case lately. You know he sent me some condoms once? Swell guy,” Brock said. “Pretty sure I’ve met Priscilla and Lucille Doe, too.”

“The ones suing him?” Jack asked. “You’ve met them?”

“Real firecrackers, those two,” Brock grinned. “My wife tells me that Lucille actually hit the Viking once. Stark’s obviously paying attention to them. Smarter than I thought he was.”

“I don’t understand your sense of humor sometimes,” Jack said. “Why is that funny?”

“Don’t you worry, Jody. We'll get ahold of Foster when the timing's right. Just get plenty of sleep tonight,” Brock said. “After tomorrow, we own all of Frenchman’s Bend.”  
  
“Fucking Paul Newman,” Rollins muttered to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title inspiration/mood: Big Bad Voodoo Daddy's "Maddest Kind of Love"
> 
> *Frenchman's Bend= the town in The Long, Hot Summer where Jody Varner's father owns all the businesses and "it is considered unlucky for a man" to shop anywhere Varner doesn't own.
> 
> *Imagining Brock Rumlow and Strucker's reactions to being in a room together is my new favorite thing now. It's really too bad Strucker is in Europe and not DC.


	34. Only Fools Rush In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe someone should have asked Brock's grandmother why Triskelion was a sign?
> 
> The flag of Sicily really does have a Triskelion on it--a Triskelion of Medusa.
> 
> *I own nothing!

“Are you as sick of powdered non-dairy creamer as I am?” Darcy asked Monroe. She was starting to feel a little stir crazy. She wanted to talk to Jane. He nodded.

“It sucks. We’re not supposed to leave, though,” he said, scratching his head.

“When have _we_ ever followed the rules? I want a burner phone and a decent cup of coffee. I want to talk to my boss lady and tell her I’m okay,” Darcy said. “Literally nothing important seems to be happening on the news, at least on the car radio. What if Brock is just pulling an elaborate, extended prank on us? What if we’re the mule, my friend?”

Monroe looked dubious. “I’m gonna get in so much trouble for this, aren’t I?” he said.

“Don’t worry,” Darcy said. “I’m totally a snitch-free zone. It’ll be our secret. Brock will never know,” she promised.

“There’s a convenience store about five miles away, we passed it on the way in,” Monroe said.

“Let’s go steal a mule, buddy,” Darcy said. He laughed.

They got in the Taurus and he sang along to Dire Straits’ “Romeo and Juliet.” Nothing seemed particularly wrong. The convenience store was one of those fancier well-lit ones that catered to truckers and interstate traffic. There was an attached fast food place and the gas station side actually had good coffee. Darcy gave a little squeal of delight at the sight of real half and half.

 

“We have reached Mecca, my friend. I’m gonna buy the biggest coffee they sell,” she said.

“I’m gonna go find some Funyons,” Monroe said. Darcy had discovered he had a real thing for Funyons and, weirdly, Peppermint Patties. She was now 83% sure he was not an undercover SHIELD agent. Those two foods in combination in a SHIELD breakroom would probably be a Phil Coulson dealbreaker at the hiring stage. She bought her burner phone, pre-paid minute cards, and coffee with cash and wandered over to one of the little plastic booths to watch the television mounted on the ceiling.

When she looked up at the CNN screen flashing the “Chaos in the Capital: Violent DC Drug Shooting” crawler, she spilled her coffee in her lap.

“Are you ok---holy fuck, is that Brock arresting a drug trafficker?” Monroe said, appearing at her side holding his Funyons. “That looks like him arresting that blonde dude, doesn’t it? There’s a damn car on fire in the street. Is this live?”

“Yesterday, there’s a date on the corner of the screen,” Darcy said in a choked voice. “I need to go get another set of clothes from the go-bag. Stay here.”

“Oh man, you spilled your good coffee,” Monroe said sadly, “but Brock looks okay, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said. She tried not to run to the Taurus in a way that would alarm Monroe if he were either a SHIELD agent or a terrorist.

 

***

 

Somewhere in DC, Steve Rogers had donned his first suit and was currently giving captain’s orders over SHIELD’s intercom system with Sam and Maria Hill. Brock Rumlow had competing orders to make sure those helicarriers launched and then go immediately to Alexander Pierce’s side.

  
***

 

There were a lot of things Darcy didn’t know for certain--Algebra, why people thought Justin Bieber was sexy, or how to read Farsi--but she knew one thing deep in her bones: Steve Rogers was not a terrorist mole in SHIELD. Anybody who arrested Steve did it to get Captain America off the the scene and out of the way. The moment she’d seen Brock nudge Rollins’ gun away from Steve’s head on camera, a bunch of seemingly-normal words had reassembled themselves into something terrifying. She felt like the floor was slanting under her feet.

  
Brock had been hunting people within SHIELD over control of a big, dangerous weapon. Someone had tried to kill Nick Fury or Nick Fury was probably dead. Then Nat and Steve had just disappeared, but he’d stayed in touch with her like it was no big deal. Whenever she asked about them, he’d implied they were “just ahead” but he would catch up with them eventually. He’d never put them on the phone or had them text her. Which meant they weren’t actually working together. The meaning of catch up took on new overtones. He’d called the people he was rendezvousing with in New Jersey his ex-coworkers. At the time, she had assumed SHIELD was calling out retired agents for help, but then LeHigh had exploded. What had Monroe said about Brock’s poker method? That he would actually tell you his hand, but make you believe the opposite.

 

He’d told her SHIELD was infiltrated and he’d sent her away, but he hadn’t mentioned alerting Tony or any of the Tower civilians at any point. His safe houses had no televisions and no phones, but he’d made sure they had plenty of weapons. His dad’s dirty SHIELD money had funded that safe house no one knew about. He’d gotten interested in her while volunteering for desk duty, something most STRIKE dudes would balk at as beneath them. It would probably be a great way of skimming info that a STRIKE dude wouldn’t usually get access to or care about, like who was friends with Thor and Tony Stark and Jane Foster. He’d told her was great at pretending. That he’d rushed into getting married because he was worried shit would go down at SHIELD. He’d trained and armed her like he _knew_ something would happen for a fact. Like you might if you were the one who was going to start something.

 

She grabbed the go-bags, went into the bathroom of the gas station, and locked the door. She had a very bad feeling. One of the things her husband had emphasized was that the go-bags were never to leave the car. Ever. If she had to meet him or she and Monroe had to flee, they should keep their go-bags.

 

He’d also taught her that the lining of a duffle bag was a great place to hide something in plain sight. Darcy took the knife out of her purse and started cutting open the go-bags.  


***

The Falcon and the STRIKE leader met in a scuffle on the northeast corner of the Triskelion.

“This is gonna hurt,” Rumlow said. “There are no prisoners with Hydra--order only comes through pain. Are you ready for yours?”

“Man, shut the hell up,” Sam said.

“You’re out of your depth, kid,” Brock said warningly.

 

He missed the helicarrier behind him. Sam didn’t. He turned and sprinted towards the banks of glass windows. Then he lept into the air.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title inspiration/mood: Elvis Presley's "Can't Help Falling In Love" (esp. the version with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra)
> 
> Thanks for all the lovely support! It's been so great to get this kind of response on a first fic! Y'all are amazing!


	35. Something's Missing Here And There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SHIELD is gone.
> 
> *I own nothing.

The inside of Darcy’s go-bag was stuffed with cash. The inside of the other go-bag had a tablet hidden inside. When Darcy turned it on, a familiar-looking creepy-ass octopus symbol--one she hadn’t seen since her Culver history class on World War II--appeared on the tablet’s screen. When she saw that every document on the device was about Jane, she dry heaved into the bathroom sink.

She had to get the hell out of there and make sure Jane was okay.

When she exited the bathroom, Monroe was standing there. “Hey, you didn’t change?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

  
“I’m fine. Seeing Brock on the news just scared me, that’s all,” Darcy said, adopting her terrorist husband’s preferred lying technique. It was easier than she’d thought it would be. She was weirdly calm. She realized Monroe could be Hydra. Maybe was Hydra. She was at 50/50 odds, in any case. She’d never actually met anyone with Hydra, just married one. And she didn’t know him at all.

“I can carry those,” Monroe offered, gesturing to the go bags. He still had his shopping bag of Funyons and her coffee.

“Sure,” she said. There were no weapons in the bags and that meant his arms weren’t free. She handed them over.

“Lead the way,” she said. As they walked out to the car, she pulled Priscilla out of her purse and looked around. There was no one else on this side of the gas station.

  
When she tased him on the back--twice--he cried out and dropped like a stone. He groaned.

“I’m really sorry if it turns out you’re not Hydra, dude,” she said out loud, fishing his keys out of his pocket. “Like really sorry. The bag of cash should make up for it. But I’m stealing your car.”

Then she ran.

  
“Mrs. Brock?” she heard him say groggily behind her. “What the fuck?”

 

***

 

“41st floor,” Sam yelled over the sound of the chopper. “41st!”

“It’s not like they put the floor numbers on the outside of the building,” Nick said.

“Just for that, one of y’all will be the one to tell Darcy Rumlow that her husband was Hydra! I ain’t doing it!” Sam yelled.

“Was?” Nat asked significantly.

Sam nodded, looking at the collapsing building. “He’s under about twenty tons of concrete and carrier now.”

“Hill, where’s Steve? We got a location on Rogers?” Nat asked through her earpiece.

  
***

 **Red-Headed Woman:** Out from cover. SHIELD infiltrated by Hydra. Long-term. Rumlow was Hydra. Dead. Is Darcy okay?

 **Master of the Universe:** Fuck. Fuck. We’re looking for Darcy now. Clint’s on the way. Steve with you?

 **Red-Headed Woman:** I am looking for Steve. They think he fell from one of the helicarriers. Does not look good.

 **Master of the Universe:** Find him. Please.

 **Master of the Universe:** Hydra? Jesus Christ.  


***

Darcy drove until she felt like she was a safe distance from Monroe following her on foot or grabbing another car--ten minutes of crying and hanging onto her steering wheel--and then fumbled with her pre-paid cards until she could make them work.

  
“Oh God, Jane, I’m okay, I got away, I tased the fuck out of this poor guy and drove away. I knew something was wrong. I saw that video of Steve getting arrested and there was a tablet with stuff about your work in the bottom of the go-bag and the Hydra logo, I knew it wasn’t right,” she sobbed into the phone. “What’s happening?”

“Something bad,” Jane said. Her voice was shaking. “We’re coming to you. Tony’s coming ahead in the suit. Thor and I are following in an SUV with more security.”

“Is it Brock?” Darcy asked.

“Yes,” Jane said.

“It was him, wasn’t it? He was lying to me all this time,” Darcy said. “This guy I tased, he said Brock packed the go-bags. Brock had taken some of my things from the Tower. He was the only one who could have. I think he was after you.”

“Yes,” Jane said. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about everything.”

“Is he dead or alive?”

“Dead,” Jane said quietly.

“Did he kill Steve and Nat?” Darcy asked in horror.

“We’ve heard from Nat, she’s trying to find Steve. The Triskelion collapsed. SHIELD is gone.”  


Tony found her waiting at a 7-11 near the interstate, clutching Priscilla and crying in the driver’s seat of Monroe’s car. He coaxed her into letting go of her weapon and held her until Jane got there, gently stroking her hair.  


“I’m so proud of you for being a self-rescuing princess. So proud,” Jane said to her, when they were safely in the vehicle. Her nose and eyes were all red from crying. She wouldn’t let Darcy go. Thor patted Darcy’s back gently as both women held each other and wept. All her adrenaline gone, Darcy fell asleep in Jane’s arms.  


On the way back to New York, Tony got a phone call. The sound of his swearing woke Darcy. She blinked her eyes, trying to focus. Tony was looking out the window of the armored SUV, his face a strange blank. He looked at her and realized she was awake.  
  
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Tony?” 

He seemed to shake himself into action.  


“Itty-Bitty, I don’t know how to say this, but Rumlow’s alive,” Tony said gently. “Our info was wrong. He survived the helicarrier impact. He’s badly injured, but he’s in a hospital under police guard right now.”

At Thor’s tensing on her other side, Jane squeezed her more tightly. “What do you want to do, Darce?” Jane asked.

“I’ll get my attorneys to draw up divorce papers,” Tony said quickly. “You won’t need to see him or go to court. We can move you somewhere safe until he is in prison and we’re sure he won’t have anyone else come after you.”

“Has anyone heard from Steve yet?” Darcy asked, a knot in her stomach.

“We’ve got people looking for him,” Tony said, looking fragile and yet somehow tight at the same time. “They think he went into the river. Darcy, please go into hiding for me, okay? I can’t take losing anyone else,” Tony said. “I really can’t.” He covered his face, but not before she saw the tears.

“All right,” Darcy said, blinking back her own, “where am I going?”

  


***

 **Agent Buff Arms:** I know a good place. She’ll be safe.

 **Master of the Universe:** Where?

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Wouldn’t you like to know.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Tell Thor to bring her and Lucky to our spot. He’ll know.

 **Master of the Universe:** Who is Lucky?

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Maybe someday I’ll tell you.

 **Master of the Universe:** Why do you and Thor have a place?

 **Agent Buff Arms:** He’s my brother from another mother.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Steve?

 **Master of the Universe:** Waiting for news.

 **Agent Buff Arms:** Shit.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title inspiration/mood: Lucinda Williams' "Wrap My Head Around That"
> 
> Thanks for all your lovely comments & feedback!
> 
> I've got a bunch already written, so would people prefer I post multiple chapters in one day or stagger it out?


	36. It Was Just That The Time Was Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, who was Monroe?
> 
> *I own nothing

**Red-Headed Woman:** I’ve got Steve. He’s okay. 

**The World’s Most Amazing CEO:** Thank God. Tony is a little too overwhelmed with relief to text right now, but very happy. I’m trying to convince him to sleep now.

**Agent Buff Arms:** Shit, he just missed Darcy. I’ll tell her that Steve’s okay.

**Red-Headed Woman:** Same.

**The World’s Most Amazing CEO:** Let me know if you need anything?

**Agent Buff Arms:** Appreciate it, Pepper. Will talk soon.

 

***   
  


 

“Hey, Cap,” Tony said conversationally, walking into Steve’s hospital room with Nat. “I’m a little disappointed you didn’t call me. I was sitting by the phone.”

“Tony,” Steve said, sitting up, looking both surprised and pleased.

“The man makes a good point,” Sam said. He was sitting in a chair in the corner, eating Steve’s green jello. Steve hated green jello. “Why didn’t we get Iron Man to help us fight the helicarriers, Steve? Where was your Star-Spangled Man With The Plan brain at when I was flying solo?” Sam asked.

“I hear he’s a little distracted by a girl,” Tony observed.

“Uh-huh,” Sam said. He smiled at Nat. He was thinking of ways to ask her out.

“Is Darcy doing okay?” Steve asked. “I heard about Rumlow being alive, I’ve just been a little distracted by....something else.”

Tony looked at him quizzically. “Darcy’s fine, she got away from a friend of Rumlow’s by herself. Alerted us to the internal situation in SHIELD in time to evacuate the Tower, alert multiple targets, and tell the president something was up,” Tony said.

  
“My milaya is a self-rescuing princess,” Nat said, looking a little smug. Sam raised an eyebrow. “I am training her,” Nat said in answer.

“You wanna tell me about that?” Sam asked, standing up. “I was thinking about getting a drink from the vending machine?” 

 

The two of them left together. Tony looked at Cap.

 

“They’re a thing?” he asked.

“I dunno, I was unconscious for a bit,” Steve admitted. “Where is Darcy now?” he asked.

Tony glanced over his shoulder. Maria Hill and several SHIELD agents were standing in the hallway of the hospital, within earshot of Steve’s room.

“Thor evacuated her and Foster to a really  _ safe _ safe house. We’re talking Other Realm safe, Steve,” he said. “Anaheim or whatever they call it. Rumlow can’t get to her.”

“Vanaheim,” Steve corrected, looking sad, yet resigned. “I suppose it’s for the best until he’s in jail,” Steve said.

“I’m sure it is,” Tony said, patting his arm. “When this is all settled, I’ll throw a great party, Capiscle. You and Itty-Bitty can party like it’s 1949 or whatever. Hey, Pepper’s in town.”

“With you?” Steve asked.

Tony laughed. “For the moment, yeah,” he said. Both men smiled at each other.

 

***

 

**Agent Buff Arms:** Status on Monroe?

**Red-Headed Woman** : He is not in the info dump at all. Not Hydra. Rumlow and he were cadets at the Naval Academy concurrently. He was discharged from from the Navy and lives near Rumlow’s safe house. He would take her to WV and then Rumlow would retrieve her himself.

**Agent Buff Arms** : Just a guy from the fucking neighborhood like he said? Shit. 

**Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: ** If he’s just a guy and not Hydra, Darcy doesn’t want to press charges. She told me she thought he might be just a random dude in the wrong place giving her a ride. That’s why she didn’t shoot him or stab him.

**Agent Buff Arms** : What does that even mean?

**Red-Headed Woman** : It is unclear. However, since Tony has arranged it so the divorce records will be sealed and Monroe has no Hydra affiliations, I will be able to leave Darcy out of my Congressional testimony without concern for repercussions. She will be able to return to normal life, provided everything goes smoothly.

**Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: ** Thank you for protecting her.

**Red-Headed Woman:** I try.

**Agent Buff Arms:** I can’t believe Monroe was just a guy from the neighborhood! [SMH emoji]

**Agent Buff Arms:** Man, he must have pissed his pants when Darcy hit him with Priscilla.

**Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: ** What was Rumlow’s plan?

**Red-Headed Woman:** I do not know. He is not talking in the hospital. I have been told he is catatonic when investigators attempt to interrogate him. The most likely explanation--given the documents Darcy saw--is that he planned to use her as bait to lure you out for Hydra, Jane. We have identified and eliminated two secret Hydra bases within driving distance of the location where he had Monroe take her. He just needed someone friendly to him to get her there. All of STRIKE team was busy.

**Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: ** He probably picked that guy because she’d be less scared of him.

**Red-Headed Woman:** It was a fairly astute move. Monroe is the kind of hapless, odd sort of person that Darcy would normally befriend. Like Clint.

**Agent Buff Arms:** Hey, no fair, Nat.

**Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: ** Fucker. Thor and I really believed he loved her.

**Red-Headed Woman:** Is it unlikely that Rumlow is even capable of love. I do not even think he is truly catatonic. He is very good at pretending. It appears his father was Hydra as well.

**Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: ** Damn Nazi bastard. I hope he rots in prison.

**Agent Buff Arms:** Amen, sister. 

**Red-Headed Woman:** Remind Darcy that he fooled people like Steve and myself for many years. She should not feel guilty. He went to great lengths with her. I have seen his file on her now. 

**Her Serene Highness The Queen of Science! & Asgard: ** Was it bad?

**Red-Headed Woman:** It was the work of many years. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title/mood inspiration: Dire Straits' "Romeo & Juliet"
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for all your lovely comments and kudos!


	37. Holding You & Whispering Things Soft And Low

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interior, Hospital. Heavily Guarded Room. 
> 
> 2nd ch. update for this afternoon, 6/2.
> 
> *I own nothing

Maria Hill was speaking to Brock Rumlow’s treating physician in the burn unit.

“What’s his condition?” Hill asked coolly. “How soon can we transfer him to somewhere more secure?” 

“I doubt it will be safe to move him any time soon. I’d recommend against it. He appears to have been dosed with some sort of chemical that increased his ability to withstand injury. Unfortunately, that means he survived the building’s collapse when he should have died,” the doctor said.

“Should have died?” Hill asked, her voice emotionless.

“He’s got severe burns over the majority of his body and corresponding nerve damage. He doesn’t appear to feel pain or any sensation at all. Pain receptors are critical to daily functioning, Acting Director Hill. If you can’t feel if you’re touching a hot stove, you’re a danger to yourself. He won’t feel the physical indicators of tenderness that signal minor infections, for example. With burns this extensive, he could get a serious infection and not even realize it. If he’s lucky, this chemical, whatever it was, will expedite his healing and some of his nerves may regenerate to give him back a degree of sensation, but he could still die of an infection very easily,” the physician noted.

Hill nodded, her eyes on the window into the room. “Has he said anything?” she asked.

“He’s been silent since they brought him in. Basically catatonic. His vital signs are strong, but psychologically, he’s probably deeply traumatized. At this stage of his recovery, he can’t actually feel his own body. It’s dissociative and disturbing for people lose the feeling of their own bodies and I’ve never had a patient with injuries this extensive. He doesn’t even have any healthy skin left to graft. If he gets enough nerve function back to resume the activities of daily life, his psychological state will still be uncertain.”

“Understood,” Hill said cleanly. “We’d like to be appraised of changes in his condition, since he is in SHIELD custody until he goes into SuperMax to await trial.”

 

***

 

A few hours later, the first of Tony Stark’s attorneys arrived to serve divorce papers. “I represent your wife, Mr. Rumlow. She’d like you to sign these.” The only response was a brief blink of his eyelids. After an hour of silence, the first lawyer left. So, Tony sent more lawyers.

The man in the bed never spoke. Several weeks of lawyers followed. They reported back that Rumlow healed in slow, oozing fractions. His skin changed from red and meaty to pink and weepy and finally to shiny with scarring and crustily scabbed. The lawyers made sure never to stand too close.

Tony had cycled through all of his personal attorneys, several high profile criminal defense firms, an entertainment lawyer, and finally sent the attorney who handled his estate planning. This attorney had been told all he needed to do was ask if the man in the bed would sign the papers. The man would probably say nothing. The attorney was terrified. He’d been terrified since he saw all the guards in the hallway.

“I represent your wife, Mr. Rumlow,” the attorney began shakily, before there was a strange sound from the bed. It sounded like a chuckle crossed with a wet cough.

  
“Come closer, Tony Stark’s lawyer,” the man in the bed whispered. “Get close, so you can hear me.” His voice could barely be heard over the whirr of the machines monitoring his vital signs. The estate planning lawyer leaned close to the other man’s face nervously. Those dark eyes tracked him from a face that was still marked with half-healed burn wounds. They were alert and watchful. Somehow that made the slightly damp, battered quality of the rest of his face more terrifying.

Rumlow swallowed and spoke hoarsely. “Tell my wife I said I thought if she ever asked for this, I’d hold her hand when we left court,” he rasped. “Don’t think I can manage it now. I’m sorry.”

When he raised his burned hands to sign the paperwork and the restraints holding him to the bed rattled, the lawyer flinched. The man in the bed chuckled. “Frightened of me?” he asked. “I can barely hold this pen.”

 

*** 

 

“Did he actually speak?” one nurse asked another that night. The patient had been much-discussed. Someone had covertly Googled and discovered he’d once been handsome. It was unimaginable.

“Twice. First to sign his divorce papers, the next time to ask his public defender to bring him a specific CD. He’s been listening to Elvis all night,” the second shift nurse said. “The same song on a loop.”

  
It went on for days. The sound of Elvis Presley--backed by the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra--singing “Just Pretend” roughly sixteen hours a day started to make the floor staff extremely nervous.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title/mood inspiration: Elvis's "Just Pretend," obvs. It had to be the RPO-backed version, because it's so beautiful and that's creepier.


	38. They'll All Come To Meet Me, Smiling Sweetly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several weeks after the Battle of the Triskelion,
> 
> somewhere in the Midwest
> 
> (3rd ch. update for the afternoon, 6/2)

 

“Tony’s on the phone,” Clint said to her one night. She was watching the sunset over the fields on the back porch. She stood up and walked into the house. 

“Hey, Tony, any news?” she asked, taking the receiver from Laura with a smile. It must be something important for him to call. He usually passed secure electronic messages through Clint.

“He’s agreed to the divorce, Itty Bitty. You’re a free woman, he signed the papers today,” Tony said softly. “Everything’s ironclad.”

“Oh, yeah?” she said, through her tears. She’d felt a wave of overwhelming relief at the words ‘free woman’ and was trying not to fall apart and sob like a baby.

“Just trying to make you laugh, kid,” he said.

“I love you, Tony Stark. You’re the best big brother a girl could ask for,” she said. He was quiet for a minute.

“Thanks,” he finally said. “Means a lot.” 

“I’m sorry I’m nothing but trouble,” she said. She couldn’t keep the slight edge of misery out of her voice then. She felt like a terrible person a lot of the time now.

“You really should have seen me in ‘93 if you think you’re difficult.” He paused. “I don’t know--” he began.

“Did he threaten me? I’d rather know what I’m up against than be left in the dark, Tony,” Darcy said. 

“He wouldn’t say anything at first. Very flat affect. Typical sociopath, one of my lawyers said. The lawyers had to make several trips. When he finally signed, he only said one thing. We don’t get it. The lawyer couldn’t understand it. Something about how he’d planned to hold your hand leaving the courtroom?” Tony said. “Seemed pretty fucking ominous.”

“Oh,” Darcy said. Her lungs suddenly hurt. She sagged against the wall of the kitchen. Across the room, Clint and Laura looked concerned. Clint mouthed something, but she shook her head.

“What is it?” Tony asked.

“It’s an Elvis reference, Tony. He and Priscilla held hands when they left the courtroom during their divorce,” she said. “Because they were still friendly.”

“Yep, fucking ominous. Keep your head down, Itty Bitty. Jane and Thor will be within yelling distance soon,” Tony said. They said their goodbyes and he asked to speak to Clint or Laura. She handed off the phone. 

 

Darcy went back outside to finish watching her sunset. It was all roses and golds, streaked with lavender and blue. Faintly, she heard Clint say, “What the fuck does that mean?” to the telephone. She leaned sideways against one of the porch posts and sighed.

The day that her friends had pulled her from that 7-11, clutching Priscilla, and she’d found out her husband was alive, her first instinct had been to confront him. She’d wanted to get his hospital room on the phone and ask if any of it had been real. Only the news that Steve was still missing and Tony’s heartbroken begging had convinced her to go quietly with Clint.

Now she thought she had a fairly good idea of what it had all meant to Brock. She’d read those files that Nat leaked.

 

***

Darcy was very happy when Jane and Thor came to visit her that week. Tony was getting Jane a secret lab fixed up in an old textile factory within driving distance of the farm (Clint still refused to give Tony an exact address), so they could be closer to one another. Tony was a good man. Darcy wished she could send him a basket of homemade muffins. She settled for sending him a secure message that promised her firstborn would be named Anthony--Elvis Anthony, of course--but the odds of little Elvis Anthony arriving in the near future seemed pretty slim. She also told him she’d give him all the good Clint gossip if he just went to therapy for his PTSD for her and Pepper. Pepper passed back a secret message that he was going twice a week and actually  _ journaling _ . 

Thanks to Tony’s kindness, Jane would have Thor and Stark security and be able to visit Darcy while Darcy was in hiding, post-Triskelion. Thor was a bit too conspicuous to blend in on the farm permanently, but he could pretend to be a Swedish immigrant with Iowan cousins in a nearby midsize city while Jane worked. Thor was a little disappointed, though; he loved the farm and would’ve stayed on to play with the kids and the equipment if Clint hadn’t given him a half-serious lecture about it. 

The look on Clint’s face had made Darcy and Laura laugh for a week. Clint  _ so _ wanted his buddy on the farm, but he knew it was too risky if Brock did have friends who were looking for Darcy.  Eventually, Darcy could return to full-time Science! and they’d all move back to the Tower in New York together. Clint was already asking if the three of them would like to stay on in Iowa after Tony sent the all-clear. Only Jane’s firm commitment to Science! in New York was holding Thor back from staying forever. He liked wide open spaces. Darcy suspected it was because they made him feel more to scale. 

 

Jane and Darcy were sitting on the back porch together one Friday afternoon. Darcy loved this view of the Barton farm.

“Thor told me that Sif and Fandral have both asked about when you’ll be single again very casually,” Jane said. She emphasized the last two words with grin. 

Darcy laughed. 

“Oh em gee. Did they actually ask Heimdall to get a message to Thor about my relationship status?” she asked. It seemed like information out of another world. She supposed it was.

“Something like that. You know they love you on Asgard,” Jane said. “You’re very popular. I think it’s more that Heimdall gets regular requests on the romantic status and love life of one Lightning Sister up there.”

“The calls are coming from inside the house! It’s only ‘cause I tased Thor that they think I’m a fierce lady warrior worthy of courtship,” Darcy joked. 

“Sometimes, I think I’d feel better if you were with an Asgardian,” Jane said, her voice a little wistful. “Someone who could whack the snot out of anybody who tried to mess with my platonic life partner.”

“You sound like Nat,” Darcy said, worrying her lip with her teeth. “Please don’t set me up with anyone new.”

“What about someone old? Like say ninety and adorable? Kinda sweet on you?” Jane suggested gently.

  
Across the cornfield, Thor had stopped playing with the Bartons’ tractor. His ears perked up.  
  


“Oh, Jane. I messed up anything I could have had with Steve so badly. How would that even go? Can he even forgive me? They don’t make  any ‘my ex tried to kill you, please go out with me?’ Valentine’s Day cards, do they?” Darcy asked. “Or ‘Take A Moonlit Walk With Me, We Both Survived A Secret Nazi’?”   


“That kind of sounds like a Hank Williams song, actually,” Jane said. 

Clint opened the screen door and stuck his head out. 

“I’m with Jane. Darce, you’ve got a real knack for country, if you decide to be a songwriter in your next life,” he said, chuckling. He brought them out some drinks and went back inside. Darcy could hear him singing “take a moonlit walk with meeeee, honey, we survived a natzeeee” to himself in a twangy accent, the scoundrel. 

She loved him and his family so much. So much.

  
“Besides, I don’t think the Constitution permits Captain America to socialize with the ex-wives of Hydra men. We covered it in my Poli-Sci 101 class,” she said, more to herself than Jane.

 

They lapsed into a moment of quiet. 

 

“How can you be so sure you’re safe from him?” Jane asked quietly, after they’d been silent for a few minutes. 

“Janey, don’t worry, Brock’s not going to bother with me,” Darcy said, realizing what her Science! sister was afraid of. “He’s signed the divorce papers from the hospital. Tony called the other day. He’s being transferred to one of those scary SuperMax prisons as soon as he’s well enough and Tony made sure he’s still under guard at the hospital. After he’s transferred and Tony monitors his communications for awhile, we just wait for Tony’s go signal to get back to the Tower.”

“Why didn’t you tell me he’d signed the papers?” Jane asked, swatting at her playfully. “That counts as major news.”

“You and Thor were in such a good mood when you got here, it seemed like the wrong moment to share,” Darcy said. It honestly had. She wanted to pretend another woman had fallen for Brock Rumlow’s act, if only for a little bit. It was nice to think of this as visiting the Bartons for a stay, not a flee-from-insane-Nazi-husband hideout.

“I didn’t expect Brock to give up so easily,” Jane said. “Are you upset?”

“That he signed the papers? No. I’m relieved. He could make this much worse by dragging it out. Thank God for Tony and his terrifying legal team,” Darcy said. “Tony said he could have a judge dissolve the marriage, if necessary, but it would take longer. This makes it easier. Tony’s attorneys made sure the divorce papers were ironclad, apparently.”

“Ironclad?” Jane said snickering.   


“His idea of a joke, I think,” Darcy said, smiling. 

“I thought he loved you,” Jane said after a minute. “Thor did, too.”

“ _ You _ love me, that’s what really matters. Tony does and Clint and Laura do and Thor and Bruce do,” she said and then paused. “It was always pretend, Jane. I read all of the info in that SHIELD dump that related to all of us, just in case. He was a spy for Pierce behind Coulson’s back when New Mexico happened and Pierce asked him to keep tabs on you. I was just the means,” Darcy said. 

Jane hissed. “Fucking SHIELDRA bastards,” she muttered.

“I think he enjoyed it as a kind of game, but only as long as he was winning. That was the part that gave him the warm fuzzies. The idea that I believed in him. Now that I know, there’s no fun in it for him anymore. Tony’s lawyer even said so. Apparently, he was all flat and sociopathic at the hospital. No more charm offensive,” Darcy said. “That last Elvis joke was his final kiss off, I think. Telling me it was all a big joke to him. I’d reached the end of my usefulness.”

“I’m sorry,” Jane said. “I really am. I love you, sweetie.” Jane gave her a strong, lingering hug. Her hugs were the best hugs. Darcy leaned against her and sighed.

“It’s okay. It helped to read the files. He had a whole MO: I wasn’t just me he kept tabs on, he did it with a lot of people. He struck up friendships with significant people when SHIELD dealt with them, in case it would pay off later. He would take people to breakfast and joke with them after alien disasters, Jane. Dated some of the women who survived the alien stuff in New York. He used to periodically check in with them, as if he wanted to make sure they were doing okay, you know? I think he did it to build trust. So they’d run straight to him if something happened, like Project Insight.  I think Pierce was grooming him to run Hydra one day, honestly,” Darcy said.

“Just your local friendly secret Nazi,” Jane said bitterly. “Did he have other wives?”

“No, I was the only wife,” Darcy said. “That I know about. Who knows?” 

“There could be Sheila in Seattle and Mary in Minneapolis,” Jane said thoughtfully.

“They can have him,” Darcy said firmly. 

“Or Francine in Fresno,” Jane suggested.

“Alice in Atlanta,” Darcy countered. “He’s all hers.”

“Pauline in Pittsburgh,” Clint called from inside.

“Donna in Denver,” Jane said.

“Candy in Cleveland,” Laura suggested from inside the kitchen. She must be sitting with Clint.

“Oh, for sure there was a Candy somewhere. Laura, you win the game,” Darcy said dryly.

“You didn’t let me get to Bambi in Buffalo,” Clint called. “I didn’t know we were doing stripper names, too. Dammit. I want clarification on the rules.”

 

Out on the porch, Darcy and Jane got the church giggles.

  
  


Laura leaned over to Clint and whispered, “When are you and Thor going to get your asses in gear?”

“He gets here Tuesday, little mama,” Clint said back, grinning. She affectionately smacked him on the knee.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title/mood inspiration: Elvis Presley's "Green Green Grass of Home"
> 
> Thanks for all your lovely support. Y'all are the best!


	39. Is There A Light Up Ahead?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve tries to buy a bus ticket; Brock checks out of the hospital.

Clint met Steve at the airport and drove him out to the farm. They talked about his efforts to find Bucky. Then Clint told him about Laura and the kids. “You’ve been hiding a family this entire time?” Steve asked, half-perplexed and half-delighted. “A wife and two children?”

“That’s nothing, I got a dog at the Tower,” Clint joked.

Steve laughed, a wild, genuine laugh. The world had messed with Steve Rogers’ head a lot lately. “That’s why Thor gave you _Dog Fancy_? Am I the last to know?” he asked.

“Nope. We’re not telling Tony anything. He thinks I’m in a competitive bowling league when I’m not in New York,” Clint said. “I think Darcy and Jane started that one because they found out there’s another C. Barton. That Barton’s in a tournament in Albuquerque right now.”

“Have you heard from them?” Steve asked softly. “Are they okay in Vanaheim?”

“I hear from them pretty frequently,” Clint said. “All good news. Her divorce came through. I’ll tell you the rest as soon as you’re settled in.”

“I heard Thor was with you and I thought he might help me,” Steve said. “That’s why I called.”

“Help you get to Vanaheim?” Clint asked. Steve nodded. The whole rest of the trip, Clint tried not to grin.

 

Steve met Laura, Lila, and Cooper and then Clint showed him upstairs. “Bedroom’s on the right, Cap,” he said.  Steve headed for the first room, stepping into the doorway. “Yours is the other one, we have another house guest,” Clint said. “Steve?”

Steve had frozen on the spot. Hanging on the wall of the blue bedroom was a drawing of the Wonder Wheel at Coney Island.

“Where?” he said, turning to Clint. Clint grinned.

“Out back with Thor and Jane. You should see your face--.” The rest of his sentence died on his lips as he watched Steve tear down the stairs.

“Watch out for Thor, Steve! He’s a menace on that tractor!” Laura yelled as Steve bolted out the back door.

 

In his peripheral vision, Steve saw Thor waving to him from a tractor in the distance. But he couldn’t stop to speak. Two dark-haired  women were walking down the path between the fields with a dog. Steve started running and didn’t stop until he was standing a few feet in front of Darcy. Jane gave his arm a squeeze and kept walking. “Good to see you, Steve. C’mon, Lucky,” she said to the dog.

 

Steve and Darcy looked at each other, beaming.

 

“I would have come weeks ago, but I didn’t know you were here. Tony told me you were in Vanaheim,” he said. He looked almost giddy.

“Transportation’s a bit difficult to Other Realms,” Darcy said, still smiling. “Even Captain America can’t just hop a bus to Vanaheim.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head and still smiling. “But I was gonna try. I can’t believe you’re here. Are you sure you’re really here?”

“Wanna come down here and find out, Captain Rogers?” she asked, opening her arms wide for a hug.

He did. He held her for a very long time, rubbing her back. “Darce, what do you want to call this?” he asked finally. She was leaning against him, basking in how warm he was and feeling like ice cream melting in the sunshine.

“I met this fella once who called it ‘real close talking.’ He was cute,” she said. “I might regret letting him go.”

“So, don’t,” Steve said. “Hold onto him.”  

“Yes, Captain.”

 

***

 

That evening he joined her on the Barton’s back porch and slid a can against her knee.

“Is this can of Crush soda a declaration of intentions, Steve?” she teased.

“They don’t have singing telegrams out here and I thought a skywriter might draw the wrong kind of attention,” he said, smiling. “But I wanted to make sure you knew how I felt without any doubts this time. It’s how I’ve always felt, Darce.”

She smiled, but then her expression dimmed a little.

“You sure Captain America is allowed to be with someone like me?” she asked quietly. Her face was serious. “It might make your public life more difficult if people found out about Brock.”

“You think anyone could stop me?” he asked tenderly. “Keep us apart?”

“My Nazi ex-husband tried to kill you,” she said.

“Gee, I guess that makes you one of many, _many_ women, Darce,” he said.

She burst out laughing.

“I’ve missed your sass,” she said. He reached over and squeezed her hand.

“I’ve missed you,” he said.

 

He told her everything that had happened with Bucky and how he was still looking in eastern Europe. She hugged him. When she let him go, he looked at the quiet farm and sighed. “This place is beautiful. I’d like to stay here with you and the Bartons forever, but I have to find Bucky, I know it seems--” he said, before she stopped him.

“Of course you have to find Bucky, Steve, he’s your _Jane._ He needs your help,” Darcy said, ending the discussion.

“I should have known you would understand,” he said, beaming at her.

 

Clint stuck his head out of the screen door. “Why don’t you go to that drive-in in Cullohee? I bet Cap’s never seen a drive-in movie. Take my truck,” he said, tossing Steve a set of keys. Steve caught them. “It’s an old truck. Still has bench seats,” Clint said. He winked.

“What’s that mean?” Steve asked.

“Clint’s corrupting your morals, Steve,” Laura called from inside the house.

 

The drive-in was showing all Marilyn Monroe comedies. Or at least Darcy thought it was. Once they go the windows all steamed up, it was difficult to tell. At one point, Steve pulled away from Darcy, his expression caught somewhere between befuddled and joyous.

“You mean they had drive-in movies _and_ cars with bench seats and people gave them both up?” he asked incredulously.

Darcy laughed against his shoulder, breathing in his scent deeply. Reassuring and warm. Maybe Tony  _could_ bottle it and she could carry some around with her all the time. 

“I think we both missed that window, Steve,” she whispered. “You’re too old and I’m too young.”

“A tragedy, whippersnapper,” he sassed back.

 

He stayed on the farm for several weeks. They took a lot of those moonlit walks, as it turned out. It wasn’t as difficult as Darcy thought it might be for a divorcee to date Captain America. Then he got a call about a potential Bucky sighting.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, Darce,” he said, as Clint got ready to drive him to the airport. He was going to meet Sam at Reagan and fly to Austria to check on a tip.

“I’ll still be here,” Darcy said. Thor had convinced Jane to hang out in Iowa a little longer. Darcy wasn’t going to argue with it. She had much better memories of Iowa than New York now.

“You better be. I don’t think I’d like the bus to Vanaheim, Miss Lewis,” he said. She kissed him twice for calling her "Miss Lewis" in that tone.

 

She watched Clint’s truck disappear over the horizon and then went to find Jane. Things were calm enough that she sometimes got to have field trips to the lab in the old factory.

 

***

 

A week later, Tony called the house. “Itty Bitty,” he said in that gentle voice that now made alarms go off in her head, “I’ve got bad news.”

“Is Steve okay?” she asked, panicking. She waved frantically at Jane, who hurried into the room.

“Steve is fine. Jarvis just checked in with him. It’s Rumlow. He’s escaped from the hospital,” Tony said.

“Shit. Jane, Brock’s escaped. How did this happen?” she asked, as Jane bolted to get Clint, Laura, and Thor.

“We don’t know. SHIELD is saying he overpowered the hospital guards and had people waiting to pick him up. We don’t know who the people were, either,” Tony said, sounding sick and miserable. The other three arrived with Jane.

“Should I leave the farm?” Darcy asked. “I don’t want the Bartons to be in danger.”

“No, stay put. I think that’s best.”

“Has Tony checked your drafts folder?” Jane asked suddenly. When he said no, Darcy shook her head.

“I’m going to check it from my laptop,” Jane said, leaving the room. A few minutes later, she returned, pale and shaking. “Darce, he’s sent you a message.”

 

It was another encrypted email. Three sentences long.

_Sweetheart, I’ll never bother you again, but you know how to find me if you ever need help. I’ll be there. Just ask._

The file attached was the song “Always On My Mind.” 

 

“Well, that is fucking creepy,” Laura said. "What do we do?"

"Should we get Steve back?" Jane asked.

Darcy shook her head. "No, I want him focused on helping Bucky," she said. "Do not call him away from that."

She thought about Monroe and those days in the weirdly cozy safe house and Brock's poker tell. "We hope it's a promise that sounds like a threat, not a threat that sounds like a promise. Impossible to tell with him. I'm done caring about these games, anyway. If Hydra shows up, I made sure to get Priscilla and a selection of Chitauri guns in the divorce," she said. "They're in the safe in my room."

Clint laughed. "I'll have your back, Itty Bitty," he said. 

"Thor's got Mew Mew"--Thor nodded--"This time we call in the cavalry, too. Tony and Rhodey can be here, so can Nat. We've got a team ready. Let's get on with our lives," Darcy said. "I've got a lot to look forward to."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title/mood inspiration: Norah Jones' "Sunrise" & "The Long Way Home" for Team Shieldshock; The Avett Brothers' "No Hard Feelings" for TeamGelato.
> 
> This is it, folks! Just the epilogue after this chapter.


	40. Epilogue: Maybe Better With Him Than Here With Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wet work is a euphemism for murder or assassination...The expression and the similar wet job, wet affair, or wet operation—all calques of Russian terms for such activities—can be traced to criminal slang from at least the 19th century and originally meant robbery that involved murder, i.e., spilling blood.” (Wikipedia)

Maria Hill opened the door to her apartment. He was sitting in her living room, in the half dark.

“Maria. I hope you don’t mind I let myself in. Helped myself to the fridge, too. Wanted to thank you in person for the end of my hospital stay,” Brock Rumlow said.

“Least I could do after you got me the chips and into the van along with everything else,” she said coolly.

“Just glad the mouse hole worked in time,” he said, sipping his beer.

She sat down across from him and studied him carefully.

“We were too close to the wire. Would’ve been nicer if we’d coordinated our efforts with the A-team, been able to pull Barnes out somehow,” he said, toying with something metal and burned on a chain around his neck.

“Barnes has blown Hydra. Cap is looking for him now,” Hill said.  
  
“Good. I missed the damn things Pierce had on the badges,” he said. “I wasn’t shooting pretend bullets, either. Wish we could’ve fixed it better.” He huffed out something between a laugh and a sigh. It was a harsh, painful sound.

“Couldn’t be helped. The carriers had to go live to die. Or an actual Hydra mole would have launched them again as soon we headed for Pierce,” Hill said simply. “We didn’t know who was who. Cap would never have knowingly agreed to let you play the part. He struggles with grey areas and collateral losses in the field.” 

“I’m trying not to be offended that you give me all the nastiest wet work,” Brock said. “What does that say about me?”

“That you’re very talented. You interested in going back to work for me again?” she asked. “You look better than expected.”

“I might need a little more time before I’m ready. Thought I was supposed to push the launch, then head upstairs and handle Pierce. Didn’t plan on getting slowed down stage-fighting Cap’s buddy for the Hydra guys on comms and having a building fall on me,” he said. He was quiet for a minute.

“Your wife’s safe in Vanaheim, Stark said so,” she said.

“Ex-wife. And you should know by now that Tony Stark is smarter than he looks,” he said. He stood up to leave. “Just give me some time to get my head together. My nerves are a little shot.” His expression was somewhere between wry and grim. 

“I hear you don’t feel pain anymore,” she said.

“A funny side of effect of squid serum and severe burns is that I can’t feel much of anything pleasant, either. Nerve damage doesn’t discriminate between good and bad feelings. I lost most of my sense of touch. Getting it back slowly.”

“Makes a relationship more difficult,” she observed neutrally.

He continued as if she hadn’t spoken.

“Can’t quite catch knives like I used to. I’ll adjust to being down one of five,” he said. 

“You can still do a lot for SHIELD with the other four. Two months?”

“Sounds good,” he said, flexing the fingers in his left hand.

“You going to see if you can find her?” Hill asked. “I might be able to help. Put Coulson on it.”

“Nope. She’s not my wife anymore, Maria. Divorce means apart,” he said, glancing at his burned hands. They had a shiny texture that was hard for Hill to look at.

A thick, deep scar tracked where his wedding band had been. The metal must have gotten incredibly hot during the fires following the collapse and burned deep into his skin. Explained why he wore the remains of the ring around his neck now.

“If any of my old acquaintances start asking about her, let me know and I’ll take care of them,” he said.

At the threshold, he paused and looked back her.

“Someone should tell Cap and the Widow that kissing don’t make you invisible,” he said, shaking his head, “Rollins almost caught that. What were they doing, pulling in kids in experimental flight suits and going to the damn Apple store when they had Iron Man on speed dial?”

  
Maria looked at him with a neutral expression. “What’s the watchword?” she asked.

  
“Crossbones has a nice dangerous man sound,” he said, smiling. “Very mercenary. All the right people won’t suspect a thing. I made sure to lay the groundwork at the hospital." 

She nodded. “I’ll tell Phil you’re back with us and to start prepping ops for you. There’s some missing SHIELD property we need back.”

“Anything’s obtainable. Have somebody get the Boy Scout those notes I took about Barnes back when I thought he might be a Russian called Yasha,” Rumlow said.

“You still don’t like him much, do you?” Hill asked.

“I reserve the right to dislike all my ex-wife’s future boyfriends. It’s an ex-husband thing,” he said, giving her a half-grin.

“Where will you go?”

 

He smiled more widely. It made the scarring on his face pucker and twist. “I think I’ll go see the house where Elvis was born for a start. I’ve heard good things,” he said. A moment later, he’d disappeared out her front door.

 

Alone, Maria Hill reflected that the best covert agents were often very strange people. Coulson had his Captain America cards and now Brock Rumlow apparently had an Elvis thing?

 

***  


He retrieved his Jeep from the garage where he’d stashed it. He was headed towards Mississippi when he realized Darcy had left something behind: an aging CD of her favorite Tom Petty songs.

Petty had met Elvis as an eleven year old on a movie set and called it ‘a religious experience,’ Darcy'd told him. It seemed as good a CD to play as any on the way to Tupelo. He needed to shake a little of the scent of hospital antiseptic out of his system before he would be ready for more Elvis and the Philharmonic.

 

Midway into the first track, he started to laugh. “It’ll All Work Out?” he said out loud. “Really? Stop fucking with me, Tom Petty.”

 

He’d thought he was done with signs, after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title/mood inspiration: Tom Petty’s “It’ll All Work Out”
> 
> This is the part where I tell you it turns out Paul Newman was never truly an arsonist (but his father was) in The Long, Hot Summer.
> 
> And that Brock Rumlow makes what could be read as the best WTH? microexpression during that mall escalator kissing scene. Go back and watch the clip: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D3Lh--e1EA0
> 
> Thanks for all the support! This has been so much fun! Y'all are great!

**Author's Note:**

> Title is inspired by Ani DiFranco's amazing song "As Is," which is kind of a tiny little hint about the intentions of one particular gelato-loving SHIELD agent.


End file.
